Cryptic Affair
by The Linnet
Summary: Spencer Reid has been hiding something from his team. Something he never meant to hide from them - at least not for this long.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

Wednesday 1st August 2018.

It had been a rough couple of weeks at Quantico, or not at Quantico, for the BAU so while they knew most people would hate the fact of coming into the third day of stacks of paper work taller than they were, the small team were thoroughly enjoying the down time. Spencer listened in to the exchange of mundane activities that brought his family so much excitement. Being able to tuck the kids in to bed. Watching some poorly executed life time drama. Home cooked food. It was a welcome relief from the pressures of dealing with the countries least desirable citizens.

They'd all had a tricky few months after a more difficult that normal case that resulted in a consultant they'd taken along becoming captured and tortured. Spencer knew Garcia had taken it particularly hard as she'd been on the phone with the consultant at the time and, in her words, didn't realise until it was too late. He was, in fact, certain that was who Garcia went to lunch with most days while the rest of the team had led themselves to believe that Garcia was back on the dating scene. JJ passed his desk, leaving a gift of fresh coffee as she went, sighing and rubbing her neck with her now free hand.

"I'm all for being home for bed time, but these chairs are doing a serious number on me." She muttered, with a chorus of murmured agreement from the team.

"You kno-"

"Just don't, Reid." Alvez groaned.

"What?" Spencer sat back against his own rather uncomfortable chair. "I was just going to say, 'you know you could always just 'borrow' a chair from downstairs.'"

"Wait..." Simmons chimed in. "What do you mean 'borrow'?"

"Well, if anyone sees you then you're bringing it to use with the intention of taking it back," Spencer started, turning back to his work. "If they don't then I believe the term is 'finders, keepers,'" The team laughed.

"I'm not sure it classes as 'finders, keepers' if you went looking for it." Simmons laughed. With that they returned back to the careful shuffling of papers, the occasional grunt or moan and scribbling of pens along with keyboards clicking.

Another hour passed before in succession, the teams phones began to ping calling them into the briefing room. Each member quickly got up from his or her desk, abandoning the work in progress, without saying a word and found their seats at the table quickly, waiting for Rossi, Prentiss and Garcia. Prentiss quickly joined them, followed by Rossi.

"What's happening?" JJ asked Prentiss.

"No idea." She shrugged and sat down. Finally, Garcia hurried into the room. "Garcia, what's the matter?" Prentiss looked confused, which confused the rest of the room as, by standard, being called to this room was already agreed with Prentiss.

"We've got home grown trouble." Garcia blurted out. "You all know Sasha Clarke." The room sat up right, Spencer included. "Silly question, of course you all know Sash-"

"Whats happened to Miss Clarke?" Rossi asked quietly.

"Well, I've been keeping tabs on her - I know, bad Garcia- but today she collapsed." Spencer tried not to look any more concerned then a casual colleague should. "She was over in the lab and one of the juniors found her, called for an ambulance and I got the ping."

"Whats the worry, Garcia?" Spencer put out. "Clarke is well known for working herself to her limit, are you sure she didn't just forget to eat for a day or two again?"

"No, no," Garcia shook her head. "We go to lunch almost every day." A few members shared knowing glances at others that seemed disappointed. "Anyway, the good doctors checked her over and sent her home - she didn't go home, by the way, she's back downstairs - but when they logged everything, I got the ping." Prentiss was holding her temple, like she was trying to carefully consider how to deal with the illegal use of software to keep tabs on a person.

"Where is this going, Penelope?" she sighed, rubbing her head harder.

"Sasha is pregnant." The room was quiet. Everyone looking from person to person not knowing what to do with that information. "9 weeks pregnant." The room then fell eerily silent. Spencer knew what they were thinking. Perfect gestation for her kidnapping. JJ's face said it all. She was worried, and angry. JJ had quickly begun to see Sasha Clarke as a little sister.

"That bastard raped her?" Prentiss dropped her hand.

"It wasn't part of his MO." Simmons reasoned.

"I don't understand," Rossi paused. "Wouldn't we have known about that before? Surely they performed a rape kit at the hospital in Orlando?"

"They offered and she said it wasn't needed." JJ's eyes were filling up.

"She wasn't raped." Spencer said quietly. The whole team had their eyes on him, he could feel them burning into him. "We've talked. A lot. Sharing stories. Trading survival techniques. Advising against survival techniques. She wasn't raped." JJ reached over to grab his hand and sat there rubbing her thumb of the back of his hand. The warmth was comforting. They stayed silent for a while.

"We now have a far bigger issue." Rossi said eventually.

"What do you mean?" Alvez said.

"How do we protect Garcia from a hormonal Sasha when she realises she's been keeping tabs on her all this time?" The tension broke and the team continue back in the usual manner. Spencer sat quietly back at his desk, lost in his own thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2

June 9th 2017

 _5 weeks after release._

Spencer walked himself through the office, his visitor's badge practically glowing on his chest. Prentiss waved at him from her office as she shut the blinds. JJ and Alvez were deep in conversation in the small kitchenette. Rossi and Simmons were nowhere to be seen. But Garcia was. She'd been waiting for him all morning. It didn't take a profiler to work that out from the 26 text messages, 3 phone calls and 17 picture messages telling Spencer the exact time it was.

"Oh my Sweet Baby Genius Boy! You made it!" She bounced over wrapping him in a tight embrace. Spencer patted her back, returning the hug as best as he could.

"I'm actually 15 minutes early," He smiled as she let him go.

"I know, but it's been too long!" she gushed.

"You saw me yesterday." Garcia waved her hand to silence him.

"Too long." She turned back into her room. "I've just got something to sort out for the M.E." Spencer followed her into the room, letting his eyes adjust to the new, darker, lighting before he noticed a woman in scrubs leaning against one of Garcia's desks. She was short, blonde and looked worn out. However, her long fingers expertly juggled a couple of Garcia's toys with her eyes trained on them. "Fidget."

"Sorry." The woman smiled sheepishly and put the toys back in their rightful places on Garcia's desk. "Admin errors make me antsy."

"Yes -Mr John Doe." sitting back in her chair, Garcia quickly set her fingers to work flying over the keyboard. "Dets."

"Guys from city general. One of their ambulances brought him. No tags no nothing."

"Didn't they call you about him." Spencer asked. It was protocol to inform the M.E. a body was on its way.

"Yeah." She nodded. "I was called about a 6ft2, mid 30's, black man involved in a suspicious death."

"And?"

"I got a 5ft10, white guy, easily in his 60's, with a port in his chest." Yes, that did sound like a problem. "Guy's on ice until I know who he is and can get him where he's meant to be. Hospital are refusing to admit they've made a mistake so I thought I'd get the big guns out."

"Okay, that's running." Garcia sighed and spun her chair back around. "I didn't want to get too heavy in the hospital just yet, so I've put a watch on all local funeral homes. If this guys just arrived, someone somewhere is receiving the wrong man too." She looked pretty happy with herself. "Coffee?" She asking looking between the odd couple in front of her.

"Sure-"

"I'll get back to work." Spencer and the woman said at the same time.

"Nonsense." Garcia stood and caught the slender woman's arm in her own and began to march her out of the office.

"Seriously," She began to protest. "I'm not about to interrupt your date, I've things I should be getting on with."

"Nonsense." Garcia smiled again.

"It's safer to not argue with her." Spencer offered in a low voice.

"Can I at least change?" Garcia complied and changed direction to the internal stair well that led to the basement.

Spencer waited for them in the bull pen, making small talk with Lewis while he waited. He was enlightened with the knowledge that since her break up, Lewis had taken up a number of new hobbies, including Zumba and crochet. After a short while, the two women appeared back up the stairs, Garcia's arm still looped around a more reluctant looking ME. He was waved over and made his apologies to leave the conversation with Lewis. He took the time of the walk to take in the smaller woman's clothing. Skinny jeans. Low rise converse. What appeared to be a band tee and a tight leather jacket. It took years off her, though Spencer found he thought of her as far less approachable in this attire.

"It was a total bust though," The younger woman sighed.

"I'm sorry," Garcia shook her head. "Honestly, I thought he was a nice guy, a real sensitive type."

"He was." She nodded. "Until the seventh G&T."

"You know sensitivity is a sign of an alcoholic personality." Spencer interjected.

"So is being a jackass, if he's anything to go by." she laughed. It was a pleasant sound to his ears. Spencer felt his own mouth twisting into a grin. He wanted to correct her and say that no, being a jackass isn't technically a sign, as it's not a symptom, however he could rationalise how other traits would come across as 'jackass' to someone. He held his tongue and let the girls continue their berating of the failed date.

* * *

Garcia offered to get the drinks as they arrived at the small coffee shop across the road from the offices. It was busy and one person going up to the counter freed the others to find a table.

"Sofa or chair?" Spencer realised she was asking him a question.

"Ah." Garcia would prefer the sofa. But Spencer had spent the best part of the morning reading in his arm chair, meaning his back was a little sore. "Chairs."

"Thank The Lord!" She sighed and made a bee line for a small rounded table with four dinning chairs around it. She squeezed herself into the back corner of the table, not a persons usual choice of seat, Spencer noted. He picked one of the chairs next to her, if only to leave easier access for Garcia to put the tray down when she joined them. They sat in silence for a while. Spencer carefully making mental notes on the woman and she doing the same about him, he assumed. She really was petite. Even her hands were delicate, if not long.

"Musician?" She finally said.

"Sorry?" She took hold of the hand closest to her.

"These are musician's hands," She said confidently, turning it over and splaying her own hand across his palm to judge the span.

"Ah," Spencer thought for a moment, trying to drag his mind back into one piece. A part of him was panicking - he was being touched by someone whose name he didn't even know! - another part was very much enjoying the warmth of her skin and the little trails of goosebumps that followed her finger tips. "No." He said finally. "I mean, I could play most things if I had a day to learn. But I don't." He finished, still watching her play with his fingers. "play that is, not the day to learn."

"Oh!" She said suddenly. "So YOU'RE 'boy genius'?" Spencer felt his cheeks flush. "Sasha, Sasha Clarke." She said holding her hand out properly now in a waiting manner.

"Spencer Reid." He took her outstretched hand in his own and squeezed lightly.

"So I've got a black coffee with 96% of the worlds sugar resources-" She pushed a cup towards Spencer, who was still watching Sasha. "An Earl Grey - hold the milk-" She pushed another cup towards Sasha, who Spencer was pleased to see was still watching him. "And a coconut latte for moi." She finished and sat down. Her gaze finally settling on the joined hands in front of her. "Did I miss anything?" Quickly, their hands released.

"Only another grey hair on my part." Sasha smiled. Garcia immediately broke into discussion over whether or not Sasha should dye her strawberry blonde hair, if she was really going grey or not and how the girl should compare herself to Garcia's apparently very grey natural locks. Spencer realised it had been a distraction technique. Garcia loved to talk about fashion. Hair styles and colours was no exception.

* * *

"It was nothing, Garcia!" Spencer sighed for what felt like the thousandth time since Sasha Clarke had left them in the coffee shop after receiving a call she hoped meant she now had the right body to work on.

"You were getting cozy!" She jabbed him in the chest with her pointer finger.

"No," he rolled his eyes. She was beginning to cause a scene and wasn't far off attracting the attention of the rest of the BAU now they had reached the office.

"Were!" She accused. "I saw you hand holding and gooey eyeing!"

"Hang on!" JJ interrupted them, fresh coffee in hand. "Who was Spence making gooey eyes with?"

"No one." Spencer got in before Garcia. He shot her a warning glance. "I was just shaking hands with someone." He rolled his eyes again before checking his watch. " I have to go. Bye." He shrugged his goodbyes before leaving.

"Pen..." JJ muttered, her voice low as Spencer walked away.

"Hand holding, I swear."


	3. Chapter 3

July 2nd 2017

He was beginning to enjoy this new, if infrequent, routine. He would meet with Garcia for lunch most days, but every few days he would receive an invitation for lunch or a coffee depending on the time of day. Today was one of those days. His phoned had pinged around 6:30 am saying nothing more than '12:30, Angelo's'. He now found himself at 12:24 sitting in their usual spot in the back corner of the small bistro. The door opened and in walked the 5 foot 1 inch tall medical examiner. Except, she wasn't the ME, not now. Now, she was just Sasha. In her dark blue skinny jeans, a loose blouse and converse, she could have been mistaken for one of the students attending the academy.

"Hi!" Spencer chirped as Sasha joined him.

"Hey," her voice was low, mascara smudged under her eyes although Spencer noticed she was intentionally avoiding his.

"Is everything okay?" Sasha let out a shaky sigh before picking up the menu, still avoiding Spencer's eye.

"Do you ever wonder if it's worth it?"

"If what is worth it?"

"What we do." She slammed the menu down. "The working out the bad guys, helping put them away." Spencer reached out to take her hand. "How can it be worth it when there's another jackass waiting around the corner to take their place?" His heart went out to her. It was difficult, knowing how many monsters lurked in the shadows. How easily they could put on a mask and be the very best citizen to the rest of the world.

"Sure there's another," Spencer reasoned giving her hand a squeeze. "But they don't wait. At least this way, there's one less active at a time." She looked at him and smiled weakly. Spencer wasn't sure how to process the feeling as her hand wound itself around his, returning the pressure he'd given her. All he knew was that he didn't not like it.

"Thank you."

"What for?"

"For saying the right thing." She laughed. "Sometimes you talk a lot and don't say much. But that, that was just what I needed to hear." He appreciated her compliment, even if it felt almost back handed.

"Are you going back to the lab after this?"

"Where else would I go?" She shrugged.

"Well I was just wondering," Spencer started, his eyes wandering back over the discarded menu. "I mean, I'm not an agent anymore, so if you'd like some company while you work?"

"Honestly," She sighed and Spencer pulled his hand away, preparing for the rejection. "That would be amazing." He heart swelled and he couldn't help but smile, his eyes coming back to meet hers from the worn out card. "It's a really crappy case and having someone that isn't Jeth around would be a massive help to my brain."

* * *

An hour later, with full bellies, the unlikely pair made their way over to the large building at the end of the street. Normally, Spencer would enter via the large glass entrance way, scan his pass and go through the FBI offices and floors to his own desk. However, Sasha nudged him away from the front doors, leading him around towards the side and of the building and down a set of stone stairs Spencer hadn't known existed.

"We're not FBI." Sasha shrugged at the unasked question. "We're just the hired help." She punched in a code to a large door at the end of a drive and let them in.

Spencer noticed the sudden change in temperature as he entered the building. It made sense it would be cooler in the lab, but still the difference caused goosebumps to run up his arms. Lights flickered on as they walked through the corridor towards a large amount of noise Spencer assumed to be music.

"Jeth!" Sasha called over the noise. "Honest to god, that boy will be the death of me." She walked over to a young man Spencer assumed was 'Jeth'. He was wearing scrubs and a lab coat - similar to those Sasha had been wearing the first time they had met - and a beanie hat. He bobbed his head in time with the vicious music clearly unable to hear the shouting. When she reached him, Sasha tapped the unaware 'Jeth' on the head, causing him to shoot back and away from his desk, a look of almost fear flashing across his face.

"Boss!" Jeth smiled broadly. "You're back!"

"Turn this crap down Jethro." Sasha picked up what appeared to be a blood result sheet and glanced over it. "Now." Jethro sighed and swivelled in his chair to the open laptop, quickly hitting space silencing the room. "Thank you." Spencer noticed that not only did she not look up from the page as she said it, but she also made a point of over enunciating the words. Something that sounded quite dry in her accent. "What do you make of this?" She held the page out. To Spencer. Not Jethro. He took it with a shaky hand.

"Completely normal." Spencer looked them over.

"Dammit." Sasha closed her eyes and brought a hand to her temple. "Tox was clean too. I was really hoping there was something..."

"For what?"

Sasha said nothing. Just gestured for Spencer to follow her. They went back out into the corridor and into a double doored room labelled 'theatre'. Inside the sterile room, two autopsy tables lay bare. A third was covered in a blue cloth. With a sickening moment of realisation, Spencer knew there was a child on that table. Sasha went up to the table, laying her hand on the body's arm and stroking her thumb over the cloth covered flesh.

"I've brought someone to see you, Peter." She said quietly and Spencer realised she wasn't talking to him. " This is Spencer. Hopefully he can help me get things straight so we can make sure who ever did this to you doesn't get away with it." She started to move the cloth away from the boy's face. Spencer wanted to turn and run. Bodies would never be a person's favourite. Human's are hardwired to fear the dead. He didn't. He held fast, moving closer to the pair as Peter's head, neck and shoulder were revealed to him. "Peter came to see me this morning. He was found on the doors of a local foster parent - one he'd actually lived with as a baby - I was hoping he hadn't felt any of this."

Spencer heard the wavering in her voice and once he looked at the small frame on the table, it was easy to see why. Peter's blond hair was a tattered mess of dirt, blood and fragments of his own skull. His left eye was missing. His jaw clearly broken in several places. Across his neck, the remains of rope burns puckered dark against his pale complexion. His shoulders littered with burns and gouges and bruises deep enough to suggests a broken collar bone and complete dislocation of his right arm. Spencer didn't need to see any more to know that the rest of the boy's body would likely mirror the damage to his face.

"Do you have any scrubs?" Spencer asked quietly. His eyes not leaving the body. Sasha left, and returned after a moment, holding two fresh, bagged pair of scrubs. Once changed, Spencer took notes while Sasha called injuries. "How old are your children?" he asked during a lull in conversation.

"Hm?" Sasha's head snapped around. "Oh, I don't have any." There was no sadness or longing in her voice. That surprised Spencer. He'd begun to profile her as a mother, something he'd never seen her as before.

"Do you want any?"

"Do you?" She shot back. Then laughed at his shocked face. "I've never really thought about it, I guess. Never been the right time or place." She stood back and looked Peter up and down again. "I think we're done here -for now. Just a couple of pictures, Peter and we can rest for the day. Do you mind helping me lift him?" Spencer nodded and put the paper work to the side of the room while Sasha fetched the gurney. "My count, on three." They both slid their hands under Peter's shoulder's and hips. Spencer, unfortunately, was placed at the dislocated shoulder which moved in an incredibly unnatural manner. "One," rock, "Two," rock, "Three." Slide. The Child weight nothing and if it hadn't been for Sasha brace her stomach against the gurney, prepared for the extra force, Peter would have ended up on the floor.

"He weighs nothing!" Spencer gasped still shook from his own actions.

"29 lb." Spencer shook his head, that couldn't be right, he was at least four years old. "I honestly thought he'd had his organs harvested when he arrived." Sasha sighed. "Come on, Peter." She tapped his shoulder and then covered his batter and bruised little face with the blue cloth.

* * *

Jethro took Peter for the xrays while Spencer and Sasha went back into the first office they'd been in when they arrived. Sasha gestured to the coffee machine as they walked in the room and Spencer nodded.

"What do you make of that?" She exhaled. "Long term or single incident?"

"Long term." He felt his heart ache and noticed a similar shadow cloud Sasha's bright green eyes.

"Yeah." She muttered. "I was hoping I was the only one thinking that."

"You said he'd been in care?"

"Technically still was." She turned to the desk digging through paperwork. "Went missing from his current foster parents last night, apparently. Missing persons was filed."

"What do you think?"

"I'm not saying they did it." She took a sip of her drink. "But they did it didn't they?"

"Statistically," Spencer nodded. He didn't even have to finish the sentence. Sasha bowed her head. She was good a hiding what she was doing, he'd give her that. Anyone else would have just thought she was mildly upset. Looking at the floor, perhaps. But Spencer noticed the single tear that dropped from her cheek leaving a little bead on the floor by Sasha's feet. Without thinking, Spencer put his cup on the desk and closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her slight shoulders. He thought for a second that he had done the wrong thing, her shoulders stiffened momentarily before dropping and Spencer felt her arms returning the embrace, holding on to his waist, and her cheek pressing into his chest.


	4. Chapter 4

24th August 2017

"Come on, Pen!" Spencer heard the loud voice as soon as he was through the door. "I'm celebrating and you have to come with me!" He knew that voice. With the still unplaceable accent, it was hard not to.

"I can't just drop everything!" Garcia countered.

"You are entitled to a lunch break though." Spencer butt in, joining the two women in the kitchenette.

"Oh - back on duty?" Sasha asked, her eyes searching his person for a visitors badge.

"Yes, and no." Spencer smiled at her. They hadn't seen each other in a couple of weeks. "I'm being allowed to lecture when the term starts.

"Very nice!" She nodded her approval. "Tell Penny she has to come and get a drink with me. And cake."

"Apparently," Spencer sighed looking at his blonde friend who was currently flashing pleading eyes at him. "You have to go with Miss Clarke for a drink and cake."

"You too." Sasha said.

"No."

"Yes." She folded her arms across her chest. "You helped with the case. You deserve the drink too. And you're not at work so you can party longer than she can."

* * *

The three had been joined by Jethro and another employee of the city's ME's office. He was a quiet man who had stiffly introduced himself as 'Clive' and didn't say much from that moment on. Spencer felt that he had also been dragged away from something he had felt was more important on Sasha celebration mission.

"What even are we celebrating?" Garcia finally questioned, accepting her drink from the tray Sasha returned to the table with.

"We'd a case, a bad one." Sasha took a large gulp of her drink. "They've just been convicted and sentence to life."

"Was it the foster parents." Sasha nodded. Spencer fought the urge to reach out and take her hand again. JJ and Garcia hadn't let it drop for almost a week last time. Taking his own drink and moving it up to his lips, Spencer let himself look at Sasha was a critical eye. Her hair was a day over due for washing. Dry shampoo lingered in her roots. Her eyes were stained purple and she looked skinnier than last time they had seen each other. From their meet ups, Spencer knew this case had been weighing on her mind. She felt like she owed it to the small boy to find the people that had treated him so severely that he'd lost his life.

* * *

Garcia and Clive had excused themselves after the one drink, heading back to their respective offices. Spencer and Jethro had begun a conversation over whether or not regeneration of an entire person would cause more or less difficulties - should it be true - and Sasha had restocked their drinks more than was necessary. Before Spencer knew it, last orders were being called. He tried to stand, his hands feeling fuzzy and his eyes taking a moment to refocus. Jethro wandered off waving his farewells over his shoulder. Sasha linked her arm in Spencer's.

"Come on," She giggled. "Lets get something to eat, I'm starved."

They wandered out of the bar, the slight chill on the air now the sun had set hit Sasha's bare arms and she shivered into Spencer's side. It took him a moment in his alcohol fuzzed mind to take note of the situation and react. He mused how in the past, he'd likely have shied away from her, but now he registered unhooking his arm, taking off his jacket and draping it over her shoulders before hooking his arm back into hers. He let her steer him into a small alley, barely recognising the statistics flashing through his brain, before pushing him into a lit doorway. The smell of fresh pastries hit his olfactory senses and made his mouth water.

"You don't mind your sugar and carbs together do you?" Sasha grinned and patted his arm. Spencer's eyes took a moment to adjust to the bright of the small cafe before he could see exact what was producing such a mouth watering scent. Trays of freshly baked croissants, pain au chocolat, brioche, eclairs and danish pastries lined the glass counters. They had all been freshly glazed with a mixture of plain glaze and chocolate frosting. They sat at a small round table, not dissimilar to the table they had picked in the deli Garcia had taken them to for lunch that time.

"Miss Sasha!" a heavily accented voice called across the room and a small, plump lady waddled over, her arms open wide. When she reached Sasha, who also had a wide grin on her face, the older women put her hands on the younger one's face and gave her cheeks a small squeeze. "Still at work?"

"No, not today Orla," Sasha smiled as the older lady's hands dropped and began rummaging in her floral apron. "We need something to soak up some serious day drinking." Sasha laughed gesturing between herself and Spencer. Orla nodded and smiled broadly at Spencer, who offered a weak, thin lipped smile in return.

"I have just what you need." she scribbled on her notepad. "Tell me, dear," she was looking at Spencer with her warm hazel eyes that were wrinkled at the corners with age. "tea or coffee?"

"Ah... Coffee, please." Orla scribbled some more, smiled again and then waddled back behind the counter. "How often do you come here?"

"Well that varies." Sasha answered with an air of vagueness.

"On average?"

"Six to eight times a week." Spencer couldn't hide his surprise. "The lab, and your office, is literally a ten minute walk from here. The pastries are to die for and Orla opens most of the hours of the day." Orla was already making her way back with a tray holding a plate piled high with beige foods, two mugs and a tea pot.

"Here you are!" She cheerfully announced serving everything from the tray. Spencer's coffee towards him, the tea pot and second cup to Sasha, and the plate of pastries with a small cow shaped jug of milk and a small pot of sugar cubes between them.

"Thanks, Orla!" The old woman nodded and smiled then made her way back into what Spencer assumed was a kitchen.

"I have to ask," Spencer started, already feeling awkward. After knowing her for all of these weeks, there was still a mystery to solve about Miss Sasha Clarke. "Where are you from?"

"Everywhere." Sasha said with a serious look across her attractive face. Then she burst out laughing. "I'm a pad brat. I was dragged around, country to country, until I went to university."

"Where was your favourite?" Spencer was truly interested, a transient lifestyle can be difficult on children.

"Germany." Sasha answered quickly and popped a chunk of croissant into her mouth.

"Any reason?" Spencer reached out and took a danish swirl from the plate before breaking off a small piece. It was soft and buttery with the occasional burst of fresh tang from a raisin.

"The people are friendly. The food is good. And the scenery?" She placed her hand over her chest and sighed. "To die for!" Spencer chuckled at her excitement.

"Maybe you could show me around one day." The words were out before he even registered thinking them. It felt like time stopped as the simple statement hung heavy in the air between them. Spencer felt his cheeks flush and his eyes shot back to the half eaten pastry in his hands.

"Totally!" Sasha enthused, seeming to not notice the agents sudden change in behaviour. He relaxed some. "You know something,"

"What?"

"Doesn't matter." Sasha shook her head and lowered her own eyes this time. She sat further back into her seat, her shoulders hunching slightly and a charming flush of pink hit across her cheeks.

"No, tell me."

"So over the past few weeks," Sasha started. She was now just ripping apart her croissant, refusing to look up. "I've found that I really enjoy our time together." Spencer nodded, aware that she couldn't see him. "And... um... I don't know, this is probably just the alcohol talking, but I really think that maybe I could possibly like you."

"Oh." Was all Spencer could muster.

"I'm sorry," Sasha stutter. "It's stupid, I'm drunk - just forget I said anything."

"But, I know I like you."

* * *

"I'm am sorry," Orla hushed again for the seventh time. "I really do need to close now." Her eyes held genuine sadness at having to kick the pair out of her little cafe.

"Thank you again, though." Sasha smiled, now far more sober than she had been when they had arrived at the cafe. She hugged the old lady after paying her. "Do you have far to go?" She asked Spencer.

"Not really." Spencer pointed in the rough direction of his apartment. "Ten minutes that way."

"Mind if I call an uber to meet me there?" Sasha was already tapping on her phone. "I'm meant to be off tomorrow. Well today I guess. I don't fancy my chances standing around on my own."

"Just call when we get there if you'd like?" Spencer offered. Quickly realising it could have been mistaken as a proposition. "They don't like waiting around, so I'm told." Sasha smiled, pocketed her phone in Spencer's blazer that she was again wearing as a defence against the chill of the night air. They walked in a comfortable silence. Sasha shivered closer to Spencer's side whenever they had to wait for traffic and Spencer found himself enjoying the feeling more and more. He found it charming how she'd tuck her chin into her chest and raise her shoulders before relaxing against him. He was rather taken by intimate gesture that was becoming so natural between the pair.

"I'm sorry," He said as he ushered her into the warmth of the apartment foyer. "The elevator is broken, we'll have to walk."

"It's fine." Sasha breezed. "What floor?"

"Forth." Spencer cringed. Sasha turned to him and smiled, mischief twinkling in her green eyes.

"Race ya?" She giggled and darted up the stairs leaving the confused agent to process and catch up.

When Spencer reached his floor, he was puffing and red from trying to keep up with the impish woman. She, on the other hand, appeared to have only gone for a brisk stroll. Cardio was not his strong suit.

"I run." She shrugged. "A lot." It fit her physique that was for sure. Spencer just nodded, getting out his keys and opening the door to his book laden home. Sasha followed him inside. Dropping her bag and Spencer's blazer on top of the cardigan Spencer had discarded on the back of an armchair the day before.

"Can I, um... Would you like a drink?" Spencer suddenly felt incredibly vulnerable. She was in his home. A person he'd know for just short of ten weeks was in his home. His safe place. She was already wandering around his front room, looking for a space without books to sit.

"Is this your mum?" She said, pointing to a small picture frame on a shelf beside the only free chair. Spencer nodded coming over to join her. "She's beautiful."

"A beautiful disaster." Spencer sighed picking up the frame and tracing the contours of his mother's younger face.

"No." Spencer had already told Sasha his mother's story, although he suspected, from the lack of surprise on her face when he shared that information, she had already known. "A beautifully intricate puzzle." She threaded her fingers around Spencer's unoccupied hand. It was then that Spencer became aware of how close they were standing. Of how perfectly their hands fit together. Of how her hair smelled like apricots. He was vaguely aware that he'd put down the picture frame. He felt his shoulder angle themselves towards her. He saw her head tilt and her eyes flit from his to his lips and back again. He registered himself doing the same, flicking from eyes as green as a summer meadow to rosy, fill lips. As spark ignited in his stomach as he caught sight of her tongue darting out, wetting that alluring feature.

It took Spencer a moment to realise what was happening. He felt his hand running through hair. A hand lightly pulling on the back of his neck. His other hand was grasping something soft, yet firm, and kneading his long fingers without instruction. His heart rate was rising and his breathing catching. A primal burning began to swirl deep in his abdomen and a soft moan escaped his lips. This was met by a contented sigh. Spencer then recognised that he was kissing Sasha Clarke.


	5. Chapter 5

25th August 2017

Spencer slowly opened his eyes. His head felt rough. His throat was scratchy and his body ached. A solid reminder that he was far too old for day drinking and that in all honesty, he may be better off just giving up altogether. His clock flashed 8:00 in harsh red digits. He rolled over trying to rest his mind for at least a short while more. Until he heard a cupboard bang in the apartment. It couldn't be his mother, she was still in the facility, most likely always would be after his stay in prison. He shot up finding his gun quickly and quietly opening his bedroom door leading out to the rest of the apartment.

A pair of jeans lay discarded on the arm of the couch that could just be seen as Spencer made his way down the hallway and his mind flashed back to the night before. Piece together a muddle of celebration, of pastries, of walking home, of feeling heated flesh under his palms, of kissing Sasha. He lowered his gun.

She was there in his kitchen. Reaching up onto a shelf far too high for her. Wearing nothing other than dark blue panties and a nude vest. Her sunny hair was thrown back in an attractive loose bun with strands hanging down. She sighed in frustration, then lent onto the counter and booster herself up, giving Spencer a very good view of her surprisingly shapely backside as she did so, before kneeling up and retrieving the mug she was trying to reach before. Spencer closed his eyes for a moment, counting to ten and slowing his breathing. He opened them again and coughed.

"Morning!" Sasha chirped looking over her shoulder at him. "Coffee?" Spencer nodded and padded, bare foot, into the kitchen. Sasha lowered herself off the counter and busied around the coffee pot. She handed over a steaming cup and sat across from him at the breakfast bar.

"So." Spencer said finally. His mind was racing, desperately trying to fill in any gaps.

"So?"

"Last night?"

"Oh." Sasha's face fell slightly. "I'm sorry if I over stepped, I'll just grab my things." She put the cup on the bar and began to head towards the living space.

"Sasha."

"No, seriously." She waved him off pulling on a sock. "I made a bad and I just hope you can forgive me."

"Sasha," Spencer rubbed his hand on the side of his forehead.

"Spencer." She shot back in the same tone. "Just leave it." Spencer didn't know what else to say. She was hurt. Hurt by him. He could hear it in her voice. See it in her rushed movements and closed body language. He stood from his stool, taking a moment to balance himself, and strode quickly over to the woman struggling to pull up skin tight denim in her flustered state. He pulled one of her hands from the waist band of the jeans, forcing her to stand straight up in front of him and with an air of confidence he didn't know he possessed, he put the other hand on her cheek, blocking her from turning away from him. He dipped his head and pressed a chaste kiss against her full lips. Spencer found that wasn't enough. He kissed her again, this time softly moving his lips. He darted his tongue against her bottom lip, grazing it slightly and was rewarded with her loosening shoulders, her free arm wrapping around his neck and the hand he held tight grasping tight against him. He broke away from her, barely leaving any space between them.

"Don't leave." it was barely even a whisper. "Not like this." She closed the gap. Kissing him softly before moving herself out of his arms.

"Do you want to talk?" Her eyes searched for his. He nodded and turned back to the breakfast bar, hoping she followed. He really needed that coffee. "So?" she echoed after joining him, her jeans back on the couch.

"Last night," Spencer started slowly. "Was amazing. But.."

"Oh god." Sasha groaned.

"Sasha, I hate to be 'that guy' but, did we have sex last night?" There was a pregnant pause. Sasha looked him up and down. Taking in his ruffled hair, his now swollen lips and his plain t-shirt and plaid joggers combination.

"Would it have been that bad if we had?" She asked, her voice dangerously low.

"No." Spencer said finally. He took a sip of his coffee, relishing the bitter taste, before continuing. "I'd have just preferred to have been sober enough to remember it, that's all." Sasha laughed. Loud and carefree.

"You old romantic!" She gasped between giggles. "No, Spencer, we didn't have sex last night."

"But I remember kissing you." He said with a degree of certainty.

"Oh, that's because you did." She nodded, coffee cup in her delicate hands. "And I kissed you. And you took off my jeans. And I took off your shirt." Flashes of those moments crossed Spencer's mind. "We fooled around like horny teenagers for hours."

"What stopped us?"

"Two things," Sasha held up two fingers. "One," she lowered one. "you said something very similar to what you've just told me. And two," she knocked down the other finger. "condoms."

"Condoms?"

"Or lack thereof." Sasha nodded. "I'm on the pill, have been for years, really doesn't bother me because I can't imagine you're the kind of guy that carries all sorts of nasties." She chuckled. "But you were very insistent on not, what was it... 'putting me in a difficult position'." Spencer felt his face flush. "Modern day Romeo." She teased.

* * *

12th September 2017

It had been over two weeks since Spencer had really seen Sasha. Not through lack of trying on either party. Spencer was swamped with lecture planning and assignment drafting and Sasha had been wrist deep in what she had nicknamed 'freshers week'. According to her, every year as students move away from home and into their new, free lives, they have an influx of accidental deaths due to pure stupidity. The kind fellow that had cancelled their date three days ago had proudly told his new college friends to 'hold my beer' before trying to ski off the frat houses roof. Spencer had been trying to squash the mounting insecurity that she was trying to avoid him as he walked into the lecture hall, his worn leather messenger bag over his shoulder, papers in one hand and a to-go coffee cup in the other. He set up and sat quietly waiting for his students to arrive.

"Why do we kill?" Spencer asked into the room of young faces. He quickly fell into a comfortable pattern, discussing and learning what the students already knew to help him with future sessions when one of the doors opened. Radiant blonde hair, high in a pony tail, an old video game promo t-shirt that was tied at the hip, ripped dark wash jeans and, as always, low rise converse. Sasha Clarke. She made her way down the stairs of the hall to a seat in the aisle only three rows away. Spencer faltered. "Um... y-yes, very good. There have been many documented cases of parricide. Can anyone name the most famous case of parricide?"

"Lizzie Borden." Came an all too familiar accented voice.

"Y-yes." Spencer wanted to turn to her. But he found himself fearful of seeing those green eyes. "But why may she have done it?"

"It was fairly well documented in the area that Lizzie and her sister held the belief that their step mother was going to take their inheritance when Andrew Borden died." He saw her lean forward on her desk in the corner of his eye. "I don't think she did it though."

"Oh really?"

"Lizzie was 5ft3. She was slight." Sasha continued. "It takes a massive amount of force to swing an axe. Never mind to swing in repetitively 30 times. Yes, women were far more used to physical labour back then, but I don't think she physically had it in her."

"Well the jury agreed with you on that one." Spencer chuckled slightly before moving on to the other forms of murder the students could be faced with. He was briefly aware of two girls sat in front of Sasha, muttering and giggling every once in a while. He caught sight of Sasha leaning down and whispering to them, their eyes went wide and the giggled again. When she sat back, he looked directly at her. She smiled sweetly, but even at this distance, Spencer could see that gleam was back in her eyes.

* * *

An hour and a half was a long time to entertain fidgeting students, Spencer had realised. He'd dismissed the class but noticed that the two girls sitting in front of Sasha remained, while Sasha herself was no where to be seen.

"Dr Reid?" He turned at his name, seeing that the girls had come up to the stage now. The taller of the two had spoken, she was dark haired with a slight summer glow about her complexion.

"Yes, Ladies?" the girls smiled to each other.

"We um..." The smaller girl with the mousy hair started.

"We just wanted to say what an amazing lecture!" the taller girl trilled.

"Well... Well that's great, thank you. Sorry I don't think I know your names."

"Annabelle." the taller girl said pointing to her chest.

"Suzie." The smaller girl waved.

"Right," Spencer nodded, committing them to memory. "Well thank you." He turned to his desk and returned to collecting papers.

"We were..." Annabelle started.

"We were wondering if you'd join us for coffee?" Suzie carried on, her words so fast they came out as one. "You know, go over the material of the course?"

"Ladies, I'm sorry bu-"

"Hey Babe!" came a voice from behind him. A single hand placed itself on his shoulder, giving him a light squeeze of affection. He turned into the contact instinctively. Dropping his head in anticipation of those beautiful, full lips he'd been craving for two weeks. Sasha didn't disappoint him. She left the hand on his shoulder, but her other, he felt hook into his belt loop and pull him into her as their lips met. All Spencer could focus on was the dizzying high touch her gave him, he let his arm wander, snaking its way around her waist. A small cough came from beside them and Sasha moved away slowly, leaving Spencer feeling cold. "Good lecture?"

"Mhmm." Spencer mumbled his eyes firmly on her lips.

"So that's a no then?" Suzie got their attention.

"It's a no." Spencer agreed. The two girls left, whispering between themselves and throwing dirty looks back at the older couple on the stage. "You put them up to that didn't you?" Spencer sighed looking back at the playful sparkle in Sasha's eyes.

"Not entirely." Sasha smiled. "I merely suggested that it was one of them that you kept looking over for." Spencer realised they were still holding each other. He exhaled audibly while he loosened his arm and Sasha unhooked her fingers.

"We need to be careful." He warned. Sasha grinned and plucked at his shirt.

"Why professor?" He didn't like that tone. "Have I been naughty?" Spencer turned to finish up gathering his papers, more as a distraction than actual need.

"Seriously, Sasha." he sighed. " We're colleagues!"

"No we're not." She leaned on the desk, swinging her legs slightly. "You get your pay cheque signed by the FBI. Mine's done by county." Spencer mused for a moment. Still. It was new, and fresh, and, quite frankly, Spencer enjoyed having her all to himself.

"We consult you on a regular basis." He sighed walking around in front of her and positioning himself between her legs. "I'm not sure it would go down too well." He pulled her into a deep embrace.

"I know." He felt her nodding against his chest. "Lunch though?"


	6. Chapter 6

29th September 2017

Spencer had a free period. No lectures and currently no marking. He'd already been up to the bullpen to see if there was anything he could do to help, but J.J. had assured him that they were fine, that there was no use getting himself worked up over case files he didn't have information for. So, Spencer had made for his next option.

The air in the lab was fresh and cool against his skin. The lights tripped on as he passed an unseen motion sensor and he realised everything was still. No Jethro. No Clive. No Sasha. He sighed to himself and considered leaving. But before he did, he sent a quick text and ventured further. Perhaps she was with someone. As his palm touched the steel door marked 'theatre' his cell pinged.

 _Only down the road. Be back in 10 X_

In that case, he thought, he might as well stick around. He knew Sasha wouldn't mind him going and sitting in the office and making himself a drink.

The room smelled different than the last time he was in there. He couldn't place it at first, and set off the coffee machine before walking around. Jethro's desk was filled with incomplete paperwork, a couple of old coffee mugs, a post-it note with a phone number scribbled on it and a plate with some crusts on it. What Spencer assumed was Clive's desk was next to Jethro's and was the polar opposite. Files neatly stacked, pens in the pot and computer expertly laid out. At a right angle to Clive's desk, Spencer found the cause of the smell. A large rodent cage with fresh straw bedding. As he approached, a little brown head appeared and squeaked at him before dipping back into the yellow straw. A crude 'Hello, My name is' sticker had been put in the corner of the cage informing Spencer that this little creature's name was 'Hawkbit'.

"Okay, Clive," Spencer heard Sasha in the garage. "If you could take Mr Cox to cabin 9 and tuck him in for the night."

"Boss." came the single worded reply.

"Thanks!" She called cheerfully. "I think you're pretty much done after that, you know."

"Thank you, Boss."

Sasha was rubbing her neck when she walked into the office. It took her a moment to see Spencer standing next to Hawkbit's cage. Her shoulders dropped and her facial features visually changed, becoming lighter - younger almost - at the sight of the FBI agent.

"Hey," she smiled dropped her hand.

"Hey." Spencer waved across the room. Sasha turned from him and filled two cups. "Whats with the guinea pig?"

"Sometimes Bowie or Capitol end up with too many animals for their labs." Sasha walked over, holding one of the stale white cups in front of her to Spencer. "They usually give me a call if I need something before they do whatever with them. He arrived two days ago."

"Okay." Spencer nodded. It was unusual practice to name a test subject. "Why Hawkbit?"

"They started this two months after I started here." She sat in Clive's unoccupied chair. "One of the interns named a group of mice we had in after the mice in Cinderella." She took a sip of her coffee. "Once they'd been named, I couldn't bring myself to sign any of the tests we actually needed them for. She took those ones home. Then came Bugs and Daffy - both gerbils by the way - Tom, Jerry, Nibbles and Topsy. All have ended up finding homes with either one of the boys or one of the interns."

"Hawkbit?"

"They're on a Watership Down phase." Sasha shrugged. "He may end up staying for good though. Quite cute, really." She seemed to drift off into her thoughts for a moment and the pair stayed silent, enjoying their much needed drinks.

"Boss?" Clive appeared in the doorway. The tall man looked across his boss and their visitor. Spencer could see his small eyes darting around between them, seeing how relaxed they were, seeing how close their were.

"Done?" Clive nodded once. "Fab-U-lous." Sasha span the chair slowly. "Have a lovely weekend at your sisters, Clive."

"Boss." And he left. Spencer's 'spidey senses' (as Garcia had once called it) went into over drive around the strange man.

"What's his deal?" Spencer leaned against the desk Hawkbit's cage was on, choosing to not sit on Jethro's chair.

"Bit of a silent Kemper vibe isn't there." Sasha nodded. "His uncle was my predecessor. Asked me to keep an eye on him and keep him busy. Never asked for more details."

"Are you sure you're safe working around him?" Sasha chuckled and nodded up to the corner of the room.

"We've camera's everywhere for a start." She took another sip of coffee. "Add to the fact, he tends to vomit whenever I need him to assist. He's strange, but he's pretty harmless." Spencer didn't feel so sure. Something about him unnerved Spencer, and these days, that was hard to do.

* * *

31st October 2017

It had been a long and difficult month. Spencer had returned to active duty. Sasha had accepted her new interns. Again, meet ups had to be postponed or cancelled between both situations. They had managed a few morning coffee's or lunches sat chatting in Sasha's own small office to the side of the main room in the lab. Spencer sat bouncing his knee on the plane. J.J. and Emily kept sharing concerned glances, like he couldn't see them. Rossi was watching him over the top of his newspaper and Spencer couldn't see what the other three were doing, but he guessed something similar. It had been a difficult case, but weren't they all? However, that wasn't what was raising Spencer's blood pressure.

He'd tried to satisfy himself with their semi public gatherings. With their texts and their phone call last night after he'd retired for the night to his cramped hotel room. He knew the exact moment he'd felt himself coil like a spring. It had been late, late for Spencer and even later for Sasha, they'd been mindlessly chatting over the day. Sasha told Spencer over how Clive had taken to sitting 'like a Bond villain' with Hawkbit on his knee at his pristine desk. Spencer had chuckled over the misconceptions some of the small town police officers had held over murder/suicide statistics and then he heard it. A soft little groan coming from the ear piece of his cell phone. His rational mind knew that Sasha had likely just stretched and was sighing in relief of the loosened muscles. His primal brain instantly brought back a small clip of memory. A split second were he had made her moan.

As soon as they had landed and the doors were opened, Spencer shot from his seat, throwing a quick 'goodbye' over his shoulder. He knew they'd be worried. But right now, he didn't care. He made it to his car and threw his go-bag on the passenger seat desperately trying to picture the drive to Sasha's home. He'd never been, but he knew the place.

Thirty-seven minutes later, he pulled up outside of the gates to 'Johnston Family Funeral Home'. Jethro, in particular, took great pleasure in teasing Sasha about her address, but she had shrugged it off saying it was cheap and the neighbours were quiet. The door was large and blue, and Spencer didn't fully feel in control as he reached out to swing the knocker. The door opened slightly and a disgruntled man stuck his head through.

"It's half 12. We're closed." He went to shut the door.

"I'm looking for Sasha." Spencer rushed out quickly. The man leaned out of the door slightly and pointed to a small cabin further down the drive with a single porch light on. "Thanks." Spencer didn't wait for a response, he knew he wouldn't get anymore than the door shut in his face. He jogged the short distance and knocked. It felt like a lifetime before he heard a key click in the lock.

"Spencer?" She sounded surprised. Spencer barely took in her relaxed appearance, a vest and shorts with an over size mens dress shirt open over the top.

"Can -Can I come in?" He asked, trying to steady his voice. He felt both better and worse for being here. She just moved aside and held the door open wider. Spencer stepped through and let Sasha shut and lock the wooden door behind him. He tried once more to steady himself. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. But that had been a bad idea, everything in this room smelled like Sasha. Of her fresh floral perfume and her apricot shampoo. She walked around in front of him.

"Is everything okay, Spencer?" She whispered quietly and reached for his clenched fists, wriggling her fingers into his palm. Her soft, warm skin ignited sparks within Spencer. He didn't even open his eyes, but he pulled her close, hooking one hand into the small of her back and the other on her hip. He enjoyed how she was pressed against him like this, but he needed more. He kissed her. Hard. Expecting her to pull away, he was surprised when she met his passion with her own, adding fuel to the already blistering inferno raging inside of him. He felt her tip toe and purred at the new sensation of her body rubbing against his. Then her hands tangled in his hair, holding him tight to her and she moaned. It was beautiful and carnal. It was shameful and blissful. Spencer let his mouth wander from Sasha's lips, planting open mouthed kisses along her defined jaw and to her exposed neck. "Mmm, Spencer."

Spencer felt Sasha's hands slide down his neck and over his shoulders, pushing his jacket to the floor. Spencer's fingers hit warm flesh as his hand wandered from it's hold of Sasha's hip to her well formed, and bare due to the length of her barely there shorts, gluteal sulcus. He recently found an obsession when discovering exactly how pert the M.E.'s bottom was in a particularly tight pair of jeans and had been aching to know exactly how it would feel to graze his finger tips along that crease and ever so slightly between her thighs. He vaguely heard his name before their lips crashed together once more. Spencer's pressed into Sasha's smaller frame, forcing her to take a step backwards. And then another. And another. Until they both fell backwards, both too focused on each other to really process, onto the fabric sofa in the middle of the room.

Sasha's legs wrapped around Spencer's waist, he felt her lock her ankles together on his back and the pressure of her pulling him closer to her. Her hands played with the collar of his burgundy shirt, running along the fabric. Her finger tips ghosted over the buttons, teasing him with the thought of her soft hands undressing him while their tongues fought for dominance. Only hand released itself from Miss Clarke's hip and Spencer didn't even attempt to stop the appendage seeking more of the warm, soft flesh beneath him. As his hand traced the curvature of her slight waist and along the swell of her ribcage, Spencer took delight in feeling how hard she was breathing. How far her ribs splayed to gulp air in effort to fuel their activities. Spencer broke their kiss, panting hard. His body was reacting to her far easier than he'd thought it would. He rested his forehead against hers, desperately trying to control himself.

Spencer missed the momentary glimmer in Sasha's bright eyes. If he had caught it, perhaps he would have been prepared for her slight shove and the swing of her hips that forced the pair to roll over, and ultimately, onto the floor. Sasha's hands ran along Spencer's neck and down onto his chest and she pushed herself into a sitting position straddling Spencer's hips. They both moaned at this new sensation. Spencer watched as Sasha moved over him, reaching out and taking his hands before moving them to her firm buttocks and showing him how to teach her what he enjoyed. The friction was a pleasant release. Sasha clearly felt the same, as a flush of passion spread across her heaving chest. She closed her eyes, bit her lip and let her head tilt back, her pleasure evident. For a second, Spencer's mind considered how much better this position would be without any clothing. His cock twitched at the though of no barriers, of being able to thrust in and out of her heated core.

With a surge of uncharacteristic confidence, Spencer sat himself up, wrapped one arm around Sasha's waist and let his mouth claim her exposed throat as its own. He littered the skin with open mouthed kisses and gentle nips from his teeth. Sasha hummed her approval and knotted the fingers of one hand into Spencer's hair once more.

"Mmm Spencer..." Sasha's voice was low. "Spencer... We... Oh God...We should stop."

" Don't." Kiss. "Want." Kiss. "To." Kiss.

"Spencer," Sasha sat back slightly and out of the reach of Spencer's lips. "Seriously."

"I'm sorry." Spencer dropped his eyes. "I didn't quite mean for this to happen. I just needed to see you."

"I've missed you too." She smiled and hooked her finger under the agents chin, forcing him to look up again. "Do you really want this, Spencer?"

"Isn't that obvious?" Spencer chuckled slightly making reference to the still very obvious hardness pressing between Sasha's thighs.

"You know what I mean, doofus," Sasha giggled and playfully slapped Spencer's shoulder. "If we take this to 'the next level' and have sex, it will change whatever it is we having going on. Do you want that?" Spencer considered for half a second then closed the gap between them once more and gave Sasha a soft, careful kiss. One designed and planned to allow her to feel exactly how he felt. Sasha broke the kiss, smiled and stood up. Spencer was left on the floor feeling incredibly confused.

"Are you coming?" She called, leaning against one of the three doors leading into the main part of the house.

"Sorry?"

"Well, Mr Romeo," She mocked a sigh. "I don't really fancy our first time together being on that floor. " He felt his face break into a grin as he quickly got off the hard wooden floor to join Sasha. She caught him in a playful kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and he surprised himself by lifting her, allowing her to lock her ankles again, and holding her close.

"Please tell me you have protection," Spencer wondered out loud against Sasha's full lips. He felt her mouth turn upwards into a smile and her head nod as he opened the door to the bedroom and carried her inside.


	7. Chapter 7

1st November 2017

While he had barely slept, Spencer felt more alive than he had done in a very long time. His head rested on Sasha's flat stomach while his fingers drew lazy circles on her bare thighs. His finger tips grazed across a small scar that resembled a pock mark at the top of Sasha's thigh. He felt her stiffen slightly as he did so. Testing for her reaction, Spencer did it again. Slower this time, letting his finger tip map the contour of the dimple in her smooth flesh. Her hand darted out and grabbed his, pressing it flat against unmarked skin further down her thigh. At this angle though, Spencer could see the crease of her arm. What he was looking for was there. It was hard to see, small and faded, but it confirmed Spencer's suspicions of the pock mark. She noticed him looking, and began to pull her arm away to hide the marks. But Spencer stopped her, holding her hand tight. He lifted his head slightly and leaned to gently kiss the scars on her arm. He pulled himself up the bed and onto the pillows. His arm wiggled around Sasha's tense shoulders and pulled her into his chest.

"How long?" He whispered quietly.

"Ten years clean." Her voice was just as quiet. Spencer moved his own arm in front of them. His own small purple pin pricks just visible.

"Nine." Sasha reached out slowly and wrapped her hand around Spencer's scars.

"I'm sorry." She said softly.

"Why?" Spencer heart leapt as he felt Sasha return his embrace. "You aren't the mad man with a split personality that kidnapped me, beat me and drugged me are you?" He tried to keep his tone light-hearted.

"What was your poison?"

"Dilaudid."

"Oh" came the response. "Classy." Spencer snorted. "I was far more of a cliche."

"Oh?"

"Smack." Spencer held her closer. "It made me the good, loyal, little girl he wanted, not the mouthy bitch I can be, I guess."

"I wouldn't call you mouthy." Spencer muttered pressing a kiss against her forehead. "Opinionated, perhaps." He chuckled as Sasha's mood melted and she snorted in amusement before giving Spencer's chest a small shove.

* * *

6th November 2017

Spencer was in a good mood that first morning back in the office. It had been noticed by the rest off the team. They'd all shared concerned glances that had been missed by the elated genius. J.J.'s thoughts had been running wild all morning, and from the amount of times Emily had been 'for coffee', she guessed that her boss was also unnerved by such a change in their co worker and friend. Eventually her nerve's couldn't take it anymore and she took her chance when Emily walked passed her desk again to grab her arm and quietly steer her into Garcia's office down the corridor.

"No," Garcia spluttered at the intrusion. "No, you don't bring things to me, I bring them to you." She wagged a finger at the pair in her doorway.

"Not a case." J.J. said quickly. "Has anyone noticed anything about Spencer?"

"Yeah." Said Emily solemnly. "He's happy." Garcia looked between the two women in front of her in disbelief.

"And that's a problem?"

"It wouldn't be," J.J. said slowly. "If he'd been okay when we left the jet. Has anyone been in contact with him all weekend?" Emily shook her head.

"I texted with him a bit." Garcia admitted. "He said he was having a classic movie marathon at home."

"He wasn't at home." J.J. muttered stiffly, glancing back at the door. "I went to check on him twice and Will popped by too." All three women stood quietly looking between each other, worry evident on each of their faces.

"You don't think he would..." Emily made a gesture with her head. "do ' _that'_ again do you?"

* * *

22nd November 2017

It was lunch time, and Spencer was clock watching. Not something he did very often. But today had a very good reason. Tonight, he was taking Sasha out. On a date. Not a 'quick I've got five minutes, you've got five minute, let's grab a coffee before one of us passes out from malnutrition' date but an actual 'getting dressed up and acting like adults' date. Whenever he considered what that would mean for them, he found his heart sped up and his palms became clammy. However that was all about to change when Garcia and Prentiss left the office and stood at the top of the stairs. Something that had become the new signal to get to the board room and quickly.

Once Spencer arrived in the boardroom, closely followed by Lewis, and joined Alvez and Simmons at the table, he took in the sight of three bodies on the screens. Two men and a woman, all grotesquely thin, laid out on cold metal slabs.

"No crime scene photos?" Simmons nodded to the wall of macabre images.

"Sadly, no." Garcia winced at the glimpse of the bodies she had just subjected herself to. "They're a little lacking in Greybull as far as being prepared for a murder or three."

"Any ID?"

"Again nope." Garcia sighed. "No one's even processed the bodies."

"All three were found this morning," Prentiss began. "In one of the local churches, laid out on top of pews when the custodian arrive this morning."

"They look like prisoners of war." J.J. remarked quietly.

"Wheels up in 20?" Prentiss nodded the teams departure. Spencer took the chance to dart, not missing J.J. and Emily's look across the room before he did, out of the office and into the lift.

* * *

"Hey!" Spencer shouted into the hall after a body as he made it down the last few steps, seeing as the elevator didn't go all the way to the basement. The person stopped and turned. It was Clive. "Is Sasha around?"

"No." Clive said slowly folding his arms across his chest. "She has work to do."

"I just need to talk to her for a second." Spencer could hear the begging in his voice.

"Can't help." Clive said simply. "She's not here." And he turned and walked away leaving Spencer to make the walk out to the tarmac alone. He quickly typed out his apology to Sasha as he went.

* * *

Everyone was already seated when Spencer arrived at the jet. He could feel their eyes on him, but he ignored it and made his way to the back, where he could see Rossi sitting. As he reached the seat opposite the older profiler, Spencer realised it was already occupied.

"Oh, sorry," he mumbled and took the seat next to Rossi instead. Spencer began to rummage in his bag, ignoring the person in front of him, looking for his phone. He knew he'd only sent the message moments ago, but he hoped she manged to reply.

 _'I'm sure we'll see each other soon - X'_

Spencer liked her optimism. But he didn't hold much hope between their schedules.

 _'Hopefully. X '_

Spencer heard a small cough but ignored it, picking up his puzzle book instead. His phone buzzed.

 _'We'd possibly see each other sooner if you'd stop being ignorant, doofus - X'_

Spencer was confused. He read the message over and over before finally looking up and around the plane. His eyes fell on the person who had taken the seat he'd planned on having. The person he'd disregarded. His heart stopped. He fought for his face to not break out in a smile and his arms to not reach out and take her hand the way he'd become accustomed to in private.

"What are you doing here?" He finally managed in a slow, careful voice.

"If you'd been here on time, Dr Reid," Prentiss sighed. "You'd have been introduced to our M.E. for this case. Miss Clarke, this is Dr Spencer Reid."

"We've met." Sasha replied. "Garcia's friend?" She added in a simple explanation that Spencer just nodded at and turned back to his puzzles.

 _'I assumed we're still on the DL as far as work goes - X'_

Spencer sighed at the message. He didn't want to be, but it would make more sense. She had been right all those weeks ago that they weren't technically colleagues, so there wasn't much Emily could do if Spencer decided to get up and kiss Sasha in front of them all right now. However, it would make the case awkward.

 _'Good idea. X'_

* * *

As they landed, Prentiss had barked out their orders. Spencer's heart sank a little when he was sent to the crime scene with Rossi and Alvez was told to escort Sasha to the morgue. While he didn't care much for spending time around the deceased, it would have been nice to have some time with Sasha were he didn't feel he was being watched. He'd made a couple of rookie mistakes on the plane that he was almost certain had been caught by the older agent sitting with them. Rossi and Spencer hadn't shared a single word on the drive.

As they pulled up, Spencer could see some commotion at the side of the small church. He nodded, pointing it out to Rossi. Rossi sighed and swung himself out of the large black vehicle and Spencer followed. A young looking police officer came out to stop them, holding out his hand.

"You can't be here." He said in a worn out voice, shaking his head. "Church is closed."

"SSA David Rossi and Dr Spencer Reid with the FBI." Rossi told the young man and flashed his ID.

"Took your time!" the officer sighed. "Officer Thomlinson, You guys might want to have a look at this." He lead them back to the small crowd of police and church members. In a rose bush lay a forth body. Another women, Reid suspected from the narrow shoulders and long hair. She was in the same uniform the others had been pictured it but her forearm was bare.

"Whats that?" Rossi muttered bending closer to look. "This one feels more and more like a concentration camp as we go along."

"I need to phone the M.E." Spencer quickly reached for his cell and mimicked punching in a number. Rossi raised his eye brow and pointed at the van already there to collect the body. "Miss Clarke has a similar tattoo." Rossi looked away.

" _Alvez."_

"Where's Miss Clarke?" there was a shuffle and a noise Spencer recognised as Sasha's tragus piercing hitting the cell phone.

" _Hello?"_

"Your tattoo," Spencer started. "What does it mean?"

" _Loaded question,"_ He heard her chuckle. " _Which one?"_

"Left forearm." Spencer rolled his eyes. Of course she would take her chance to get him thinking about her semi naked. "The numbers."

 _"Oh that one. Dependant personnel number. Why?"_

"We've got a forth body with the same tattoo. Do any of those you have have it?"

" _Literally just walked it and was scrubbing. Let me check."_ He could hear her moving around the room. _"John Doe 1 is a yes... It's a yes for John Doe 2 as well. Let see if we have a hat trick... Yep that makes three with our lovely Jane."_

"We'll follow the body back."

 _"I'll get the coffee on then."_

* * *

24th November 2017

Sasha sat across from Spencer at the desk. Her fingers quickly flying over keys tapping out email after email. Thanks to Sasha's information and a few calls she made to old connections, They had learnt the names for the original three victims. But Spencer couldn't concentrate with Sasha this close to him. He mind span with a thousand questions he'd never thought to ask her before.

"Why?"

"Why what?" Sasha mutter without even looking up from the screen. "Why is the sky blue? Why am I out of tea? Why do people kill other people?"

"Why do you have your tattoos?"

"Oh." She stopped and twisted in her chair to look around the screen at Spencer. "I'm assuming you've already profiled a reason?"

"Sasha," Spencer started quietly. "I would never profile you."

"Most of your team have been doing nothing but." She smiled. "Apparently, 17 year old me thinking I was being ironic getting my number tattoo'd on me wasn't actually being that unique."

"The feather?" Spencer remembered the hours he'd spent tracing the lines of the dove feather that contoured Sasha's left breast.

"For my mother."

"Your ankle?"

"You already know what that means." Sasha smiled slightly. Spencer did. He'd translated the text easily. 'Ad Maiora' -'towards greater things'.

"What about the semi-colon?" Sasha stopped smiling and reached behind her ear absent minded.

"When an author uses a semi-colon, he's telling us he could have stopped there. Ended things and moved on. But he didn't. He chose to take what he'd done, move on from it but not finish it."

"Sasha," Spencer wanted to walk over there and hold her tight. He wanted to take back everything that had happened to her. He wanted to make it right. "I-"

"We've got a lead." J.J.'s head appeared around the door breaking the mood and the moment.


	8. Chapter 8

2nd December 2017

They'd finished up the case the next day and headed home. While Spencer had been exhausted, he'd also been hoping Sasha would have followed him home. But she didn't. She'd given his hand a brief squeeze, yawned and headed downstairs into the lab. Garcia had murmured something about how she needed to stop sleeping at the office and busied herself in checked everyone over before they all filed out to their cars and homes.

He'd tried to wait patiently for a text. But one never came. So on the morning of Saturday the 2nd of December, Spencer got himself up and ready and into his car to make the forty minute drive to Sasha's home. Only to be told by the same disgruntled man he'd woken on Hallowe'en that Sasha wasn't home, she hadn't been in days. Spencer tried to control his heart rate as he drove back towards the office. He tried to stop his mind walking through every case they'd been on where no one had noticed the victim was missing for far too long.

As soon as he walked into the basement morgue, he knew someone was down here. The lights were already on and there was soft music coming from the office. Spencer stood in the doorway, he could see her straight away and his heart slowed from it's rapid attack on his chest. Sasha was there, sitting at Clive's desk, typing something on the computer in front of her. She was wearing her usual work attire, plain blue scrubs, her rubber shoes had been discarded on the floor so she could bring her legs up onto the chair with her in the way Spencer had found she likes to sit when she reads. Next to her, on the desk was a large white mug with a bit of paper and string looped around the handle.

"Have you been here since the case?" Spencer's voice was low, so he didn't make the tired woman jump. Though he suspected that she knew someone was behind her already.

"If I say 'no' will you leave me alone?" The exhaustion was clear in her tone.

"It's Saturday, Sasha."

"Doesn't stop people dying though." She carried on typing. Spencer walked the short distance between them and dragged Jethro's chair over to sit next to her. He reached his hand and put it over hers that was sitting idle on the mouse.

"You'll make yourself ill." She still hadn't moved. "Lets go get you something to eat and somewhere to sleep?" It wasn't much of a question. But slowly he felt Sasha relax and give in to his request.

* * *

Three hours later, Spencer sat in his front room reading. They'd picked up bagels on the way to his apartment and he'd found Sasha something more comfortable than her street clothes to sleep in. He'd wanted to follow her into his bedroom, he'd wanted to wrap himself around her and keep her safe from whatever demons were destroying her mind right now. But he just stood in the hall and awkwardly waved as she shut the door on him before trying to make himself comfortable on the couch to wait for her.

At quarter to one, someone knocked on his apartment door. He threw a cautious look at the bedroom door and considered his options. He could ignore the door - he wasn't expecting anyone - and play it off that he wasn't in or he could answer it and hope it was a quick open and shut situation. As the visitor knocked again, Spencer sighed, put down his book and went to unlock the door.

"Hey, Kid." Derek Morgan stood in the door way. He waved a greeting.

"Oh... Um...Hi?"

"I come all this way and you wont even invite me in?" Morgan smirked and pointed into the apartment. Spencer sighed and let the door fall open, allowing the larger man into his home.

While Morgan appeared in a jovial mood - like he was on a friendly visit - it was clear to Spencer that his old friend was trying to reassess a long held profile that Morgan had on the younger agent. Spencer knew straight away. From the way Morgan slowly walked into the room, to the way his eyes flitted from surface to surface.

"Ah... Coffee?" Spencer gestured to the stools at the kitchen island. Morgan nodded and sat himself down, leaning on his elbows, forearms on the counter, as he did. "You wont find it." he sighed as he set the coffee pot off.

"Find what?" Morgan feigned innocence causing Spencer to gave a weak smile.

"I'm not using again, Morgan." Spencer stared straight at his friend. He could see the metaphoric clogs turning behind Morgan's eyes as he decided what to do next.

"Never said you were, Kid." he admitted quietly.

"The others think I am, don't they?" Spencer muttered while straightening the cups he'd put ready for the coffee.

"Spencer..." Morgan started, then stopped. "They're just worried about you."

"They could have asked me."

"They're scared." Morgan said simply, accepting the coffee from Spencer. "They say your moods been all over, you've been late and rushing off as soon as you can."

"They still could have just asked me." Spencer sulked.

"What's going on, Kid?" Morgan's eyes searched for Spencer's. "We're all worried about you."

"Nothing." Spencer said and took a swig of his coffee, nearly scalding his mouth when he did. "Hey, hows Hank?" Morgan's face broke into a grin while he reached for his phone and began to rattle off up to date information on his son's development and interest. They only stopped when the bedroom door at the end of the hall opened. Morgan sat up straighter, his hand on his gun. He relaxed a little as a half dressed and barely awake Sasha wandered into sight. She was wearing two odd socks, rolled down to the ankle, her legs bare and Spencer prayed to a god he didn't believe in she was wearing underwear because all that could be seen was his half buttoned blue shirt just covering her while it hung loose from her body and off her shoulder.

"Nothing, eh?" Spencer caught the small smirk on Morgan's face that was matched with a light hearted chuckle.

"Oh... Hi." Sasha yawned slightly as she approached the two men at the kitchen counter. "Didn't know you were expecting company." She smiled weakly at Spencer.

"I wasn't," Spencer smiled back. He was sure Morgan was profiling their every move towards each other, but he didn't care. "This is Derek Morgan, Morgan this is Sasha Clarke."

"I usually prefer to meet people when I've more clothes on," Sasha smiled sheepishly but held her hand out for Morgan who took it and flashed her a dazzling smile.

"Don't worry about it." She nodded at him. The turned into the kitchen and boosted herself onto the cupboards, giving both men and involuntary flash of her lace panties.

"Sasha," They'd had this discussion a number of times, Sasha claimed he put things up high because of 'tall people privileged' and he was convinced that one day she was going to hurt herself jumping on and off the counter like that. He forgot Morgan was there for a moment, stepped behind her and reached up to take the cup she was reaching for in one hand and put the other on her waist to guide her back down to what he deemed was 'safety'. He turned back to Morgan who was sat with his eye brows raised and a grin from ear to ear.

Thankfully, Morgan managed to compose himself before Sasha finished making her tea and joined them at the counter where a string of pleasantries were exchanged. After a short while, Sasha noticed a photo of Hank still open on Morgan's phone. Spencer watched her out of the corner of his eye while still making idle conversation with Morgan. A small smile ghosted across her lips as she observed the chubby cheeked little boy grinning a toothless grin widely on the small device.

"He's cute." She smiled.

"Ah," Morgan gushed. "Takes after his daddy!"

"Oh." Sasha's face clouded over slightly. "Can't be yours then." she teased, puffing her cheeks out. Morgan obviously didn't know Sasha as well as Spencer, who knew she was playing with him, rather like a cat does with a mouse.

"No... He's my son." Morgan said.

"Nope." Sasha popped the p. "Far too cute to be yours." And she stuck her tongue out at him and left with her cup of tea back to the bedroom. Spencer fought with himself to not laugh, but Morgan's shocked face pushed him over the edge.

"Where the hell did you find her?" Morgan eventually chuckled.

"Er... Well..." Spencer stammered slightly.

"Oh! I get it." Morgan smiled at Spencer. "Secrets safe with me. I like her." Morgan checked his watch and made his excuses but before leaving he dropped his head low to Spencer's "For the record - I didn't think you were using again."

* * *

3rd December 2017

The was nothing more beautiful, Spencer decided, than watching the lazy morning sun weave through his blinds and cast soft shadows across Sasha's pale and naked skin. She was lead on her stomach, her arms raised and crossed under the pillow supporting her head and giving Spencer the perfect view of the curve of her spine and her well toned legs. Sadly, his view of her backside was obstructed by a small amount of his bed sheets snaking around her hips.

He liked this. He liked the way they would spend the evening satisfying themselves with each other, then fall asleep in a tangled mess. Sometimes they would talk a while first, other times they'd exhausted themselves so much there was no energy left to talk. At some point in the night, they would disengage. Spencer preferred this to previous bed partners' habits of holding him so tightly he felt like he might suffocate. It showed him that Sasha was, mostly, independent. She didn't have any insecurities about their relationship. But he couldn't help but notice that some part of her would always be touching or reaching for him. Today, her foot was resting next to his.

Spencer reached out on hand and gently traced patterns down Sasha's back. She sighed contently and Spencer's mind instantly jumped back to the previous night. Memories of being pulled into Sasha's waiting arms and open legs while she'd sat on the kitchen counter, still only wearing her panties and his shirt. Of hearing her gasp when his lips grazed just the right spot on her neck. How it had felt wrapping his arms around her and carrying her into the bedroom. Of her kissing and biting down his chest as she unbuttoned the dark shirt he'd been wearing and then onto his trousers. Of how he'd been aching for her by the time she'd wrapped her hand around his throbbing cock and quickly slid the condom down. He could almost feel how she'd straddled him and teased him. How they'd both moaned in unison when she eventually gave in to his begs and whimpers and sank down onto his rock hard length, engulfing him in her hot, tight inner walls. She rode him hard, letting his hands grope her ass cheeks while she did, and whimpered and moaned for him. He could vividly remember the exact moment she came for him. How the flush of ecstasy spread across her face, as her eyes closed and that glorious gasp of his name fell from her lips, and down her chest at the same time as her muscles rhythmically contracted and relaxed around him sending him over the edge. Spencer had to blink a few times to remind himself that he was just remembering the feeling of Sasha's naked chest, still heaving, pressed against him, his cock still inside her, as she peppered small kisses on his neck and jaw bone and he held her tight to him as they came down from their shared high.

Sasha began to stir under Spencer's hand. She yawned and rolled over, her ass landing perfectly in Spencer's lap. Perfectly against his erection thinly veiled under pyjama pants.

"Oh," she muttered sleepily. "Good morning to you too." and she twisted her neck around to kiss him, grabbing the hand that had been on her back to pull him tighter in. Spencer kissed her back. Sasha ground herself against him, her breathing getting harder as she did. Spencer slipped his other arm under her waist and let it roam, grabbing her bare breast. The hand she'd originally grabbed, wiggled free and began to explore. Down her abdomen, across her thighs and eventually at the apex of her legs. Flat palmed at first, gently rubbing and giving her the friction she was seeking to press herself against, but then his own need took over, he ran a single finger across her slit, testing her readiness.

"Fuck, Sash." he moaned into her ear. His hand quickly ran from her heated core down to her thigh and in one swift movement, Spencer shifted himself out of the way and rolled Sasha onto her back then put himself between her legs, hovering inches above where he really would have preferred to be. But this was a new position to Spencer. He'd always just 'laid back and took it' in the past, letting the few women he'd brought home (or gone home with) to have their way with him more than trying to please them. His eyes hungrily raked over Sasha's body. He realised he'd taken too long when she began to squirm under him, using her arms to cover her self slightly. He sort her eyes with his own and easily moved her arms back away. "You're beautiful." He dipped his head down to meet her and dropped a gentle kiss on her lips. "You're brave." Another kiss. "And strong." And again. "And you're all I could ever want."

"Then take me," she breathed into his mouth and their bodies and lips came crashing together.


	9. Chapter 9

31st December 2017

The team had just arrived home and debriefed before heading out to the car park together as one large, happy group. Spencer was with them. He knew they were all exhausted but months ago, Rossi had invited them all to spend New Years at his house. They just hadn't expected to literally be walking in from a case. Garcia was walking with J.J. ahead of Spencer. The two women were talking in hushed tones to each other. Suddenly, Garcia stopped and began waving her arm around.

"Sasha!" She called across the car park. Spencer's eyes quickly followed her waving. He could see Sasha's bright blue Fiat Spider with the trunk open. As the M.E. appeared from the back of her car, Garcia tottered over on her high heels.

"Hey Pen." he heard her say. "Oh, Hey everyone." she said a little louder. Spencer wave slightly, the way he would have when meeting a new person and some of the others muttered their hello's. "Just got home?"

"Yeah," J.J. said rubbing her neck. "Quick case though." Sasha nodded.

"Listen," Garcia said. "We're all going to see in the new year at Rossi's. You should come!" The blonde's face looked hopeful. Spencer knew they'd been spending more time together recently. Because it meant he was spending less time with Sasha, or at least less time alone with Sasha.

"Penny," Sasha sighed, rolling her eyes. "You can't go around inviting people to other peoples houses." and she chuckled flicking her keys in her hand. "I've a cactus that needs some attention any way."

"No, I insist." Rossi smiled warmly at the smaller of the three blonde women. Sasha seemed to drop her shoulders slightly, almost in defeat.

"If you insist," She smiled back at Rossi. "Anyone need a ride?" She was looking directly at Spencer. Others made their excuses or were already travelling together.

"Yeah," Spencer piped up. "I mean if you're offering, there's no sense in taking two cars." She rewarded his bravery with a quick smile before turning back to her car and calling out for him to hop in.

"You do know the way, right?" She asked loudly while Spencer climbed into the car.

"Of course." He said shutting the metal door behind him and reaching for his seat belt.

* * *

They'd been driving for fifteen minutes, Spencer occasionally giving Sasha directions as they went. They talked about work, Sasha's grandfather's recent phone call, how Spencer's mother was doing. He was enjoying it. He was glad he could see in the New Year with her, even if he wouldn't be able to get the same attention from her as he would have if they were alone.

"Do you think maybe we should tell them?" He asked quietly over the hum of the car engine.

"Do you want to?"

"Do you?" Sasha sighed quietly and pulled in to a small lay by at the side of the road. She unbuckled herself and turned towards him in her seat before placing a gentle hand on his thigh.

"Talk to me, Spencer."

"I guess I'm scared it will change things." He admitted putting his own hand on top of hers. "But I'm also scared you're getting tired of being a 'secret'"

"Whatever you want to do, I'll follow your lead." She squeezed his thigh. "These guys are your family, it's a big thing, I get it." She smiled at him.

"I think I want to kiss you right now." Spencer flashed her a cheeky grin. Sasha hummed and leaned over the mid console of the spider and kissed him, softly and gently.

"Here's what I think we should do," Sasha whispered, her face still close to Spencer's and her hand still on his cheek. "I'm not big on public displays of affection anyway, so why don't we just be us around them?"

"What do you mean? Like tell them?"

"I wouldn't even bother." Sasha shrugged sitting back in the driver seat and buckling herself in. "If they work it out then so be it. I just think we're a little old for 'DTR'."

"'DTR'?"

"Define The Relationship," Sasha thrust the manual car back into gear and turned back on to the road.

* * *

At Rossi's house, they were the last to arrive. Sasha laughed it off as Spencer being a poor substitute for a sat nav as Rossi welcomed them into his home. The older agent laughed along with Sasha but raised his eye brow at Spencer. Spencer shrugged and played along with the joke, claiming all those suburban streets merge into one to him.

"A drink?" Rossi offered holding his hand out to take Sasha's jacket.

"Anything on the rocks, thanks" Sasha smiled.

"Water, please" Spencer added. Rossi took their coats and went to get their drinks, leaving them to join the team in the sitting room. J.J. and Will shared an arm chair watching their friends, Garcia, Simmons, his wife Kristy, and Lewis stood by the fire chatting and Alvez and Daniella sat together on one of the larger sofa's talking about something and nothing. Spencer could hear Krystall talking with Rossi in the kitchen, but couldn't make out what they were saying.

"Oh, you made it!" Garcia spotted the pair in the door way of the large room and waved them over.

"We were about to send out a search party." Simmons joked.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Sasha smiled sheepishly. "Apparently, even geniuses can't read maps."

"Pretty sure that's just a man thing," Lewis laughed tipping her glass to Sasha who joined in.

* * *

At the start of the night, Spencer had been able to feel their eyes on him, on Sasha. Whether it had been real or in is mind, he wasn't sure. But he was glad that feeling had eased as the night went on.

"That piano is stunning," He heard Sasha gush at the baby grande Rossi had in the conservatory. "Do you play?"

"I don't even know if it's in tune, hon." Krystall smiled at her. "It was my ex husbands."

"Mind if I?" Krystall waved her hand in way of permission and Sasha put her half drunk glass of whiskey on the table next to the ornate instrument. Even from behind, Spencer could see her run her fingers down the keys before she tested a scale. "It's close enough." She took a deep breath and began to move her hands quickly over the keys. The rest of Rossi's guests stopped and turned to look at the piano. Rossi himself laughed once causing a few others to chuckle.

"Now, I wasn't expecting that." Rossi smiled. Spencer was drawn to the music. All this time and he didn't know she played. They stood for a few minutes, watching her hands fly up and down, listening to the beautiful melody her and the underused piano made. Until it slowed and faded. Spencer hadn't realised he'd moved closer and closer to her until he was standing right beside the piano when she finished.

"Beautiful," he murmured.

"A little rusty," Sasha smiled weakly. "A few slipped notes."

"What was that?"

"Debussy's Arabesque no. 1." Spencer nodded and gestured to the bench Sasha was sitting on. She shuffled over for him to join her at the piano.

"Could you teach me?"

"I guess I could," Sasha sucked her teeth a little then put her left hand on the keys. "So you play this," she tapped out a few bars and Spencer watched her fingers intently. "Got it?" He tried, and failed. "Like this." She took his hand in her own and manoeuvred his fingers into the correct place at the correct time. Eventually she began to play with her right hand, still guiding Spencer with her left.

"Mozart." Spencer hummed in recognition as Sasha slipped her hand away from his, letting him play alone. Now her hand was left sitting on her thigh, her little finger dangerously close to his spare hand. Without a second thought, Spencer let his fingers intertwine with Sasha's under the keyboard.

* * *

1st January 2018

"Seriously," Sasha was being held onto tight by Krystall who was currently trying to convince her to either stay the rest of the night, or let them call her an uber. "I honestly only live about 4 blocks over. It's a 12 minute walk at best - even with these short little leggies!"

"I honestly would feel better if someone walked you then." Krystall held her at arms length, her blue eyes searching Sasha's green.

"I'll grab my co-"

"David!" Krystall hissed. "You're far too drunk to do this, aren't you?"

"Am I?" Rossi looked confused for a moment, Spencer could see him from his seat in the sitting room. "I am." he nodded solemnly. "Kid, will you see Miss Clarke gets home safe?" Spencer tried not to jump too quickly. While they'd done exactly what they said they would through out the night, he still felt like things where under cover - that they'd gotten away with it.

"I mean," Spencer sighed as he stood up, stretching out his long legs. "I guess I could use a walk." Rossi patted his back as a thanks and Krystall beamed at him from behind Rossi. She gave Sasha one last hug and then wrapped Spencer in a tight embrace whispering 'thank you' as she did.

"Don't be strangers!" Krystall called from the door way as they waved them down the drive.

As they walked together down the cold street, Spencer kept glancing behind them. As they got in line with the next house to the left of Rossi's, the porch light went out. Spencer sighed and put his arm around Sasha's slight shoulders. Sasha hummed and rested her head against his arm. Their strides fell in time and Spencer dropped his head while they walked to kiss Sasha's head.

"Happy New Year."

* * *

"What even are you doing?" Rossi whispered at his significant other. She was bouncing on the balls of her feet, ignoring the fact they did still have some guests inside.

"Just watch." Her bouncing became more erratic as she became impatient. "Oh wait." She turned back and with a click, the porch was plunged into darkness.

Then it happened. Barely illuminated by the street lights, the young couple walked along. A hand reached out for the other, then pulled the smaller person into the larger. The arm could just be seen throwing itself over the slender shoulders. One head relaxed into the embrace and a few steps later the other dropped, momentarily, onto the other.

"Well I..." Rossi couldn't believe what he was seeing. There had been moments he thought the young agent was more invested in the consultant than he let on, but they were brief and far between. Leading to nothing more than a similar kinship the young agent held with many of his colleagues. "How did you know?"

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Rossi starred at her in disbelief.


	10. Chapter 10

2nd February 2018

Garcia was flicking up more and more pictures of crime scenes and victims. It wasn't an obvious link, but someone had eventually seen it as more than just a teen suicide pact not spotted in time and called the FBI in hopes of some help. As usual, Garcia stood stiffly, making sure her eyes looked anywhere but in the direction of one of the many screen around the room.

"Knock, knock?" Came a voice from the open office door. The room turned to look at the intrusion.

"Miss Clarke?" Prentiss put down her tablet and altered her body language, welcoming their part time colleague.

"Sorry to interrupt," She didn't look all that sorry. Spencer knew that face, she was mad. "I'd like to be included in this case."

"I'm sorry, Miss Clarke," Prentiss started, looking a little awkward. "I'm not sure I see the need."

"I know the M.E." Sasha said with a tone of authority. "He's a piece of work and I can bet my life that there are far more victims than you know about."

"That's not unusual." Rossi tried to reason.

"Oh we'll already know that they are dead." Sasha nodded. "But he's weak, anyone can buy him off to write anything on the records." She started chucking files across the table. Spencer took the closest one to him. Opening it he saw the autopsy photographs of a young man. His face beaten and bruised. Cause of death was listed as 'Accidental/ RTA'. On closer inspection, Spencer could see a well sutured line on the man's neck. Likely the result of an argument with a blade of some description. He glanced over at the file Simmons held. A very clear suffocation had been listed as 'Sudden Unexpected Death Syndrome'.

"You can come." Prentiss was flicking between two files, her face a picture of disgust. "Wheels in twenty."

* * *

They'd been on the jet for the best part of an hour, all sitting in complete silence. Rossi and J.J. were reading. Prentiss was scrolling on her tablet, most likely through case files. Simmons and Alvez had headphones in. Lewis was jotting in her note book and Sasha was going over the files a forth time, her own notes on the autopsy reports on the table next to the open file.

"How did you know Dr Manning?" Prentiss broke the silence.

"I worked with his waste of space arse for 12 months when I first moved back to the states." Sasha didn't even look up. She just pulled out a body map and the images of the body in situ then began comparing the two. "He was a surgeon, but had his medical licence stripped and turned his hand to pathology instead. Part of the deal he made, I think."

"How did you know he was on this case?" Prentiss sat back, watching Sasha carefully.

"When I first started working here," Sasha still didn't look up. "I asked one of the techs to set up an alert." She switched pen colour to highlight something she'd noticed on the body map. "I wanted to be told if he was into anything stupid."

"This is teens being made to look like they've committed suicide though." J.J. was involved now too.

"I can confidently tell you that while each and every single one of those reports says they were suicides," Sasha finally looked up. "Not one of these kids tied those ropes." Spencer leaned over the aisle and took the file Sasha was currently looking at. "Corey Banks. Well known local pitcher. Well know local right handed pitcher." Sasha said pointedly. Spencer saw what she was talking about in the crime scene photo. That knot had been tied left handed. "Sophia Catterton, on paper looks like the most likely to have genuinely committed suicide-"

"Why?"

"Terminal cancer." Sasha barely missed a beat. "However, she barely had the strength to stand up." Spencer looked over the crime scene photo for that incident. Miss Sophia Catterton had moved furniture and climbed up a stool to hand herself from an exposed beam. The xrays in both files confirmed what Sasha was saying about the teens. Corey Banks had small indicators on his right hand and fore arm that suggested far greater use and a lower bone density on the left. Sophia Catterton's tumours were clear on the xray's as were the indicators of muscle wastage and small partially healed fractures that would have made walking painful, never mind moving a futon around the room.

Spencer looked up from the files. Prentiss was staring at him expectantly. She was trying to hide her intention - to ask Spencer if everything Sasha said was true - but she wasn't doing her best at it. He could understand her being wary. The team knew Sasha, but didn't really know her. She could have just been trying to get a week out of the lab, for all they knew.

"She's most likely right." Spencer nodded. "They weren't just told to kill themselves,"

"Someone was there to make sure they did." J.J. finished.

* * *

"I refuse to be spoken down to by a good for nothing whore!" Dr Manning slammed the door as he left, fuming about Sasha's arrival and her process of unpicking the best part of the last 12 months worth of case loads. It was looking more and more like she had been right, a few autopsy reports not lining up right and Garcia had unearthed a few suspicious looking deposits into Manning's bank account around the same times.

"Well that was a little uncalled for." J.J. murmured.

"Hm?" Sasha was barely paying Dr Manning's outburst any attention.

"The name calling."

"Oh, that." A small smile played on Sasha lips. "I guess it's true."

"What?" Spencer sat up properly now, turning his attention to their conversation and not the report in front of him.

"For 8 months," Sasha still hadn't looked up for her reports. "I was screwing my boss."

"Seriously?" J.J.'s face said it all.

"Seriously." Sasha finally looked up. Straight at J.J. and the pair burst out laughing.

* * *

Spencer hadn't known what to do with that information. He'd kept it together for the remainder of the case but on the plane he mind was reeling. He knew it was irrational to be concerned over a previous relationship that had likely been over for at the very least three years by now, but he couldn't help the bubbles of jealously in the pit of his stomach.

Had this man also seen how she would come apart with a whisper in her ear? Or felt her back arch so perfectly when you graze your hand over her soft belly? Or perhaps he'd also committed the euphoric sight of Sasha riding them both to climax, calling his name as she reached her high to his memory? Spencer had. He replayed those sights, sounds and feelings on a regular basis.

As soon as the plane landed, Spencer was out of his seat and onto the tarmac. He didn't look back as his name was called.

* * *

He'd been home for an hour. He'd showered and gotten himself into fresh lounge clothes with a mug of hot tea and a book. It was a poor distraction, but it was somewhat working. Until there was a knock on the door. That snapped him out of his delusion of normality. Spencer didn't move. his hand hovered over the open book, whose page he was about to turn. His eyes stayed on the same word, rereading it over and over. He could practically feel his heart slowly when he realised he'd also stopped breathing.

"Spencer," Sasha was behind the door. She banged again. "I know you're in there. I can see the lights."

Spencer sighed and put his book down, neatly sliding a bookmark into the pages before it closed. When he reached the door he hesitated, his hold hovering over the handle. Eventually, his palm closed and his wrist turned, opening the door to reveal Sasha's concerned face on the other side. Not that he could look at her. Whenever he did, he pictured _his_ hands on her.

"Hi," He could hear the smile on her voice. "Would you please look at me?" It took effort, but he did. "What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?" she smiled softly at him and reached out to take his hand. He resisted her for a moment, but Sasha wriggled her fine fingers into his palm and squeezed his hand reassuringly. Spencer reacted. He pulled her toward him with the hand she was holding and wrapped his arms around her, breathing in the scent of her shampoo.

"Tell me its over with 'him'" Spencer's voice was barely a whisper. He felt her shuffle in his arms and he held on tighter.

"It's been over for years," she sounded dejected but didn't hesitate with her response. "Long before I even left New York."

"What was it like?" Spencer's jaw was set and firm and this time, when Sasha moved away from his chest, he let her.

"Do you really want to know?" Her eyes searched his for the truth.

"No." Spencer shook his head. "I don't want to know, but part of me needs to." Sasha nodded slowly and led Spencer back towards the couch he'd been sitting on before.

"It was... It was good." Sasha didn't know how to go about this conversation. She decided on direct.

"Right." His eyes shot down to their still joined hands. He was considering letter go when Sasha's hand squeezed his again.

"Because it was sex. It's hard for consensual sex to be truly bad." She shrugged.

"But-"

"Spencer," Sasha's free hand found his cheek and forced him to look at her. "It was a means to an ends. We both worked too hard to ever find someone but are both still human. I approached him with the offer, before you think he was just some perv eyeing up the interns." Her thumb was softly rubbing his cheek in a soothing manner. "We never saw each other outside of work or booty calls, we never snuggled afterwards and we've never talk since. I don't miss him, I don't wish I could have him back because there was nothing to have back. He was just a very responsive sex toy to me."

"Did he know about..." Spencer nodded down, in the vague direction of Sasha's arms.

"Nope." She popped the 'p'. "Honestly, we never spoke about anything personal. If we had met outside of work it, we didn't talk - just got what we needed and left."

"Right, right," he nodded.

"Spence, is this going to happen every time someone brings up a previous relationship?" Sasha's voice was dripping with concern.

"No." He said quickly, then dropped his eyes away. "Maybe." Sasha chuckled. "I just couldn't stop thinking that maybe that was a thing for you, men you work with."

"Actually working in the same building as you is more of a nightmare than a thrill." Sasha let go of Spencer and sat back into the couch. Spencer followed her.

"Really?"

"Yep." She pulled him down on to her, letting him rest his head on her chest.


	11. Chapter 11

14th March 2018

She hadn't expected anyone to remember. They'd had a date planned, but that was just purely coincidence. And now he'd had one of those calls. So after seeing off Jethro and Clive off for the evening, Sasha closed up at the morgue and tucked Hawkbit into his travel box. She was bringing him home for the weekend for some company. The drive back to her cabin was beautifully peaceful, with the occasional squeak from the box in the passenger foot well. But once she arrived, she noticed the porch light was on. As far as Sasha remembered, she'd turned it off that morning on her way out. Or was it the day before? It wasn't entirely unusual, sometimes Mrs Johnston would pop over to give the place a bit of a spruce up and water the plants when she hadn't seen the car in a day or two.

Sasha did pay much more thought to it, until she was setting the key into the lock and it didn't resist. The door was already unlocked. Sasha carefully put Hawkbits travel box on the ground, to the side of the wooden door, and picked up a old rail post that she used to prop the door open in the summer months. It was cold and heavy in her hands. She tested the weight for a moment before swinging the door open and the rail high at the same time.

"Woah! Sasha!" A voice broke through the terror already built in her mind. A voice she knew.

"Spencer?" Her eyes could make out the well known shape of the federal agent. And how the table was set, with candles lit around the room. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in South Carolina?"

"Could you lower that bar first?" Spencer was eyeing the metal pole, his hands up in surrender. Sasha felt her face flush. She'd forgotten about the post and awkwardly lowered it, letting it rest on the inside of of the door frame. As she did that, Spencer walked over to her, his arms out. Sasha happily let them wrap around her, breathing in the heady sandalwood that surrounded Spencer on a daily basis. "I may have told a little lie earlier today."

"You think?" Sasha laughed, relief flooding her.

"I'm sorry," He chuckled slightly. "But I wanted to surprise you."

"Consider me surprised," She laughed and pushed herself out of his arms. Now the coast was clear, she retrieved Hawkbit from the front door. She'd slowly built up a guinea pig paradise in the small second bedroom of the cabin, where she deposited him. "Whats all of this?"

"Well, I've cooked,"

"It smells amazing," She was being honest, whatever it was it smelt divine.

"Rossi gave me a recipe," Spencer shrugged.

"Spencer," He'd already turned back to the final few preparations for their meal. "Thank you. This is possibly the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me."

* * *

April 10th 2018

Spencer hadn't heard from Sasha in a few days. He hadn't been overly concerned until he overheard J.J. and Garcia whispering about her in the kitchen at work.

"So she HAS been seeing someone?"

"Well duh!" Spencer could hear Garcia rolling her eyes. "I gave up asking who about a century ago though, so no idea who- oh! Maybe it's not even the same who as before!"

"No," J.J.'s voice was confident. "Sasha is a long term kind of girl."

"What about her boss?"

"Was still 'long term', just not exactly conventional." J.J. laughed uneasily. "Has she done a test?"

"Like a million." Garcia sighed. "She's off the the doc's later today. Can you imagine though! A teeny tiny mini Sasha in teeny tiny mini scrubs?"

"Cute!" J.J. gushed.

"Cutest!"

The women carried on their gossiping, unaware of their eavesdropper. Not that he was paying any attention now. Sasha is pregnant? Or at the very least believes she is? And she hasn't breathed a word of this to him?

* * *

He'd felt sick all day. But she'd texted him, not long after the overheard conversation, with a time and a place to meet. It seemed so normal that it had made Spencer laugh. How could possibly finding out you're going to be a father be normal?

He pushed open the door to the little backstreet cafe Sasha had shown him months before. His heart was racing as he stepped inside. He tried to mimic the smile Orla gave him from behind the counter, but he knew it was more of a grimace. He saw Sasha sitting in a corner by the window. She was watching out onto the quiet street, the sleeves of her jumper pulled over her hands and a steaming mug in her hands. The closer Spencer got, the more he realised she wasn't watching out onto the street. Her green eyes were staring, unseeing, with a sheen of unshed tears.

"Hey," Spencer's voice, thankfully, didn't shake the way he thought it would. She nodded at him slightly and smiled. Spencer noticed she took the time he was getting himself settled in the chair to wipe at her eyes.

"Hi!" She trilled in what Spencer knew to be a forced attempt at happiness. "How's your day?"

"Interesting." Sasha nodded. "Yours?"

"Interesting... I guess." Spencer was searching her face for clues. She looked tired. Orla interrupted them for a moment, putting down a mug of hot coffee in front of Spencer. He thanked the older woman who patted his shoulder and then scurried off back to the counter.

"You seem... upset?" Spencer leaned back in his chair. He knew it was defensive to do so, he was protecting himself.

"I've... um... I've just been to the doctors, actually," Sasha's voice was soft and low. There was a nervous shake behind her words. Spencer readied himself. "Spencer... I'm p-"

"Pregnant." He spat out before she could say the word. Her eyes went wide and she leaned forward on the table.

"What? No!" Spencer felt a little sick now. His head was spinning with emotion. "It's kind of the opposite actually."

"What do you mean?" He was confused at the emptiness he was now feeling.

"I'm perimenopausal."

"That's not possible," Spencer shook his head. "You're only 29!"

"Definitely what it's looking like," she sighed and dropped her eyes back to her tea. "Bloods will take a couple of days, but the scan was completely empty."

"So you're not pregnant?" She shook her head. "Oh thank god for that!"

"Oh," She muttered still staring at the mug in her hand.

"You are happy about that aren't you?" Spencer was rather oblivious to social ques, but even he saw he'd touched a nerve. "It's not like we're in any position for a child."

"Yeah. I guess" She still didn't look up. "But would it really have been so bad?"

"What?"

"If I was... you know."

"Sasha," Spencer tried to reach out for her hand but she moved it away. "Sash... We're not there yet. I don't know if I'll ever be there if I'm honest."

* * *

They were in some back of no-where, hick town on a case. Spencer was sharing a desk with Lewis. JJ was over talking to one of the local PD. He could feel both women watching him. He wasn't on his A-game. He'd been checking his phone every 17 minutes. Almost constantly for the last two weeks.

Day by day, Spencer could feel his heart breaking.


	12. Chapter 12

May 29th 2018

Spencer's phone had buzzed just as he was leaving the large glass doors for the day. He sighed, held them open for the lady who'd followed him from the elevator and then turned back into the slowly quietening building. As he stepped back out of the elevator, into the hallway in front of the BAU's office, footsteps came from the stairwell to his left. Dressed in her civilian clothes, with her hair hanging damp around her bare face, was Sasha.

"Hey," Spencer breathed, just loud enough for the approaching M.E. to hear. She gave him a weak smile, her green eyes dull and lacking their usual mischievous sparkle.

"Evening, Dr Reid." She nodded and stepped ahead of him into the BAU's office. A hint of fresh lemon hit Spencer in place of her usual apricot shampoo.

"Lemon?"

"It's been a long and shitty day." She sighed walking herself into the briefing room and away from Spencer, ending the conversation.

* * *

Spencer had been calculating his next move during their briefing. Young women turning up on the streets beaten and bruised and looking like they'd been through a modern day witch trail. Sasha was with them as an extra set of eyes over the process as the M.E. in Titusville was struggling under the pressure - hence their call out. As they'd filed out of the briefing room to make their way out onto the tarmac to meet the plane, Spencer followed Sasha. And as they entered the plane, he made sure to slide himself into the queue behind JJ, who was chatting away to Sasha. Her answers had been pleasant, but short and clearly exhausted.

Spencer made sure to sit across from her. He noted the glance of annoyance she shot him as he did and while it stung, he decided to ignore it. They didn't speak until they were in the air. Sasha, clearly uncomfortable, was trying to settle, but kept pulling back over the tablet with the case files on.

"Coffee?" Spencer said while holding out a white mug filled with the dark liquid.

"God, yes!" Sasha sighed, offering Spencer the first genuine smile of the day while she shoved the tablet away and accepted the offered drink.

"How are you?"

"Dealing." She shrugged.

"You never replied to my texts." She shrugged again and stared straight into her coffee cup.

"It's been hard." She eventually said. "I felt like I'd been hit by a bus," Spencer nodded. Of course she'd have felt that way. It was a massive discovery. "Only for you to celebrate it." His heart sank. He hadn't meant to 'celebrate' her diagnosis. He didn't feel like he had. He'd thought he'd been supportive. He replayed the entire meeting in the cafe over and over in his head. Yes, he'd been relieved that she hadn't been pregnant - that he wasn't possibly passing on his defective genes - but he'd shared his reasoning, he'd told her how sorry he was. She'd never even indicated that she was thinking about children yet!

* * *

"Earth to Spencer?" J.J. waved her hand in front of his eyes. Her face full of concern.

"Oh... yes... sorry."

"Are you okay, Spence?" She put her hand on his shoulder. He wanted to tell her everything. But it was too late now - what good would it do? - not to mention, they were supposed to be focusing on the case.

"Yeah," He said distractedly. "I'm fine."

"You sure?" Her blue eyes locked with his. He nodded. "Okay." She didn't sound convinced, but she released his shoulder and turned back to the evidence board.

"Hey, J.J.?"

"Hmm?"

"How do you make it up to someone when you've really messed up?"

* * *

They'd been in Titusville a couple of days before Spencer had found the time, and confidence, to knock on that door. He waited one minute, then two, then three. She wasn't going to answer. He knew she was in her hotel room. Alvez had confided in Spencer and J.J. that he'd practically had to drag her there and lock her in - that he'd told the front desk to call him if she tried to leave the hotel.

As he turned to walk away, he heard a click. He turned back, a few feet from the threshold now, to see the door partially open. A sleepy looking Sasha stood in a pair of mid thigh length shorts and a tank top. Her blonde hair was scrunched up in a messy bun and she was squinting through her glasses. Spencer had woken her. She rarely wore her glasses which Spencer thought was a shame. The black shallow frames suited her.

"Spencer?" Her voice was thick with sleep.

"I woke you," he simply stated. "I'm sorry - I'll just leave."

"No," she seemed to be waking up some more now, her eyes appearing brighter. "Whats wrong?"

"I ..." Spencer felt rather pathetic now, even more so when he muttered the next words. "I just want to talk."

"Come in then," she opened the thin door further, letting light into what Spencer could see was a dark hotel room. He shuffled passed her, unable to turn away now he'd been 'caught'. The door clicked shut, plunging them into darkness before a second click flooded the room with artificial light. She padded, barefoot, around him and sat herself on the end of the bed, one toned leg tucked under her and the other dangling over the edge. She held out a hand, motioning to the simple wooden chair at the small desk in the room.

"So..." Spencer said suddenly feeling awkward.

"So." Sasha copied.

"I... I'm sorry, Sash," Spencer finally got out. She nodded. "I truly never meant to hurt you. I just didn't realise you wanted kids yet and the words just sort of came out before I could think." Sasha nodded again and the room fell back into silence.

"I didn't." She said finally. "I still don't really." She sighed. "It just, sort of backs you into a corner. Going in expecting one piece of information and being given another." Spencer just nodded dumbly. "Honestly, Spencer, I don't want to have your kids."

"Sorry?" The comment wasn't entirely out of the blue. But he still wasn't expecting it.

"Think about it," She said reaching out for his hand. "We're both addicts, you run the risk of hereditary psychosis, I have a hole in my heart - we're not genetically the right people to be reproducing. Especially not together."

"You have a hole in your heart?"

"I love that that's what you took away from that," She smiled at him. "Found in the full work up they did thanks to the diagnosis. Must have been there all along though."

"So that's us then?" He nodded, looking at their joined hands.

"If you want it to be," Her voice was quiet again. "But I was... I was thinking that maybe we could just carry on playing whatever game this is until we really get bored of each other."

"And what if you do want kids?"

"There's always adoption." She shrugged. Spencer's face broke out into a grin as he leaned forward into Sasha, catching her lips with his own and taking her by surprise. The force of their kiss pushed them both onto the bed Sasha had been sitting on. Spencer's hands went straight to his favourite curves of Sasha's body. He groaned deeply at the feel of the bare flesh. Her hips bucked into him and her hands slid quickly down his body to his belt. She continued to work his belt while he pushed himself closer to her. He needed the contact. Sasha seemed too as well because as soon as Spencer's belt was loose she pulled at the buttons of his chino's and slid her hand into the space now made between the coarse fabric of the outer layer and his cotton underwear. The feel of her hand cupping his hardened length brought him back in to the room.

"We should stop."

"Doesn't feel like you want to, Spencer," she hummed against his neck.

"But... oh god Sash." she was right, he didn't want to. But they'd not been talking for so long. Then talking about children they didn't want to have? "The timing-"

"Is perfect," She bit him lightly. "A month without you... that was too much."

"I haven't any -"

"I'm still on the pill." She was sliding her hand under the waist band of his shorts now. "And practically infertile."

"Shit,"Spencer sat up on his elbow. "I didn't mean to -"

"Bring it up." Sasha finished. "I know, but now how about you start making it up to me?"

* * *

Spencer couldn't believe it. Their phones had beeped at the same time. Prentiss phoning Spencer and Alvez calling Sasha. Sasha had jumped from the bed, grabbing her phone and running, naked, to the bathroom to take the call leaving Spence free to answer his call from Prentiss.

"Where are you?"

"I .. um... I needed some sleep," Spencer quickly lied. There hadn't been any sleeping going on.

"Sorry to wake you," Prentiss sighed. "We need you back though. Could you catch a lift with Miss Clarke? Alvez says she's getting ready to leave now."

"See you in 20." Spencer clicked off the call just as Sasha walked out of the bathroom. "Same message?"

"I assume so." Sasha began looking for her discarded clothing. "You know, it'd be nice if the serial killers could just take a moment to consider what they might be interrupting." Spencer chuckled. Serial killers didn't consider anything but their own gratification. But Spencer knew that Sasha knew that. So he kept his thought to himself.

They dressed in a comfortable silence. Spencer had quickly checked the hall before opening the door fully giving them space to leave. If he'd been paying attention and not still riding the high that had been his short time back between Sasha's creamy thighs, he would have noticed how her eyes clouded over and her smile faltered as he checked to make sure no one saw them leaving the room together.

Once they were in the car, the silence had become uncomfortable. Sasha was staring out of the window, barely blinking.

"You're quiet." Spencer observed out loud. "Are you regretting what we did?"

"No."

"Did I do something wrong?" The silence hung heavy in the air for a fraction too long before Sasha replied.

"I assume that with the making sure we weren't seen that this isn't a public knowledge type of thing." Spencer felt his stomach lurch. She thought he was embarrassed by their relationship.

"Sasha - it's not like that at all," Spencer started.

"Is it not?"

"No," He sighed. "It can't be known that we were having ... you know-"

"Sex."

"Yes... Sex... when we're on a case." It was Sasha's turn to sigh now.

"I suppose."

"We can go back to how things were when we get home," Spencer offered. "If you'd like?"

"Perhaps." Sasha hummed as they pulled into the car park. Nothing more was said on the matter as she exited the vehicle and made her way into the police station before Spencer had even killed the engine.


End file.
